Sandcastles
by sam938
Summary: After Basics, Chakotay's child ends up on Voyager. The fallout is disturbing, and he has no idea how to cope, especially when the unknowns are threatening Voyager's every move through what should be safe space, and Janeway is on a determined mission to destroy the enemy, no matter what. Long. J/C. Finished in 1998.
1. Chapter 1

**Sandcastles: Part One**

Standard disclaimers.

Notes: This is long, It's an A/U about season two characters who don't know each other well, and takes place right after Basics. But in this case, the child was Chak's. It was written right after that ep. I have no idea how the child ended up on Voyager.

**Chapter 1: Introducing the Problem**

Kathryn Janeway looked at Kes with equal measures of sympathy and exasperation. The Ocampan had been avoiding bringing up the real reason she'd come for nearly fifteen minutes. Janeway felt her patience start to give out. She finally said, as gently as she could, "Kes, maybe you could just get to the point."

With that, Kes looked up and grimaced, but immediately looked back down again. "I'm trying, Captain. But this is very difficult to say correctly." She took a deep breath, refusing to meet Janeway's gaze. "There are two members of the crew whose health seem precarious to me. I've become very concerned."

"Why hasn't the Doctor informed Commander Chakotay or me of this? If someone's ill-"

"Captain, its not that serious." Kes sighed and continued. "I'm sorry to worry you. The problem's not possible to document yet. It's too early. In fact, the Doctor doesn't even think there is a problem. But I do and I thought you should be informed."

"Kes?"

"I'm trying, Captain."

Janeway was relieved and disturbed. And frustrated, she silently acknowledged. She mentally erased the next two meetings on her schedule. It was clear her conversation with Kes was going to take a while.

Kes finally got to the point. "It's Commander Chakotay and the child."

Janeway sighed and waited. When nothing further was forthcoming, she tried again. " I know the Commander's been having some difficulty adjusting to the demands of raising a child. That's to be expected, of course, but I wasn't aware it was physically affecting his health."

"It's not. At least, not that I'm aware of. It's the physical health of the child that I'm concerned about."

"I thought the Doctor gave it a clean bill of health."

"He did. This is difficult to explain. While the child's physically healthy, there are still early indications of problems. For example, he cries continually and doesn't sleep even though for his age and size he should be adjusting. He eats, but he has to be coaxed constantly. And, although he's in the norm for most things, he seems listless and somehow frustrated."

"Aren't a lot of babies like that?"

Janeway realized, with some annoyance, that she had no idea what babies *were* like. Children weren't a part of her life, except for her nieces. She'd tried to be sympathetic to her sister's concerns, but...well, that was a thought best left back in the Alpha quadrant. Of course, she'd taken classes along with everyone else on command track concerning the management of vessels with children on board at the Academy. But the issue had never had to be considered on ship she commanded before. Now, out here, in the Delta quadrant, she was looking at the possibility of a generational ship. The thought was troubling. Up to now, she'd done her best to avoid the inevitable implications, hoping they could wait. She got up and began to pace the room.

Of course, her first officer, in his infinite ability to unsettle her, had started the problem. Inadvertently, she had to admit, but none-the-less he *had* started the problem. It was typical. She turned back to the conversation at hand.

Kes continued. "Perhaps other human children do display some of these characteristics. But this child is part Cardassian, part Bjorian because of the changes Seska underwent, and human. Captain, there really is a problem."

"What is it?" Janeway decided she shouldn't be surprised. It was Seska's child, after all.

"I don't think he's bonded with anyone."

Janeway'd already imagined a number of dire scenarios. Bonding didn't fit in any of the subcategories she listed under "dire". She stopped her knee-jerk reaction of rejection and tried asking for clarification instead of making assumptions. "Bonded? It's just a baby."

"Yes, Captain, and you've just demonstrated what I suspect is the cause of the problem. 'It's' a person, a he, a living creature with emotional needs, even though an infant. As I said before, this is difficult to explain.

"The Commander is a responsible parent. All of the child's needs are being met physically, but emotionally there's just no connection between them. I don't think the Commander even likes to be in the same room with the child but he still insists on being the primary caretaker. It must be difficult to spend the majority of your time physically caring for a demanding life form to whom you have such a complex connection. Unfortunately, the child care plan we've set up for when he's on duty rotates responsibility, so the child is never close to anyone other than the Commander for an extended period of time."

With that, Janeway felt more hopeful. Maybe there was a procedural "out" of what she suspected was going to be a "what they didn't want to hear about in reports" type of problem. "Kes, you set up the schedule. Perhaps you can simply adjust it."

"No, Captain, I can't. Perhaps you or Chakotay could, but I'm just working with what's left after shifts are arranged. And even if I could, it wouldn't help."

All right, that hadn't worked. Janeway braced herself and then asked the obvious question. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like the answer. "Kes, what are you suggesting? "

"I think the baby needs an emotional bonding with a parent. And the Commander... well, I think the problem's affecting the Commander as well. Someone needs to intervene. I've tried but he won't discuss it with me, and I have no authority to do anything about the child. But, Captain, you do."

It was as bad as she thought. She tried to avoid the inevitable. "Kes, while I sympathize, you say that the child's physical condition, as well as Chakotay's, is within acceptable limits. I don't think I can interfere."

"Captain, I'm sorry, but that's where you're wrong. You are the only one who can interfere successfully."

"Kes -"

"Captain."

Janeway sighed. "Kes...?"

"The child is a member of your crew. Granted, the newest, and the youngest, but still a member. Your treatment of him will be mimicked and accepted by the rest of the crew. Have you even seen him yet?"

Janeway shook her head, admitting the oversight. "It's been busy lately. "

"I didn't think so."

Kes seemed determined to finish now that she's started. "Most of the crew ignores him. I think that's why Chakotay spends most of his time alone now. Oh, some of us have tried, but I think he agrees with most of the crew. Your Starfleet regulars see the child as his mistake and Seska's revenge; with the Maquis it's more complex. Most feel betrayed, I think, and see the child as part of that betrayal, but hurt for Chakotay."

"But Captain, 'it's' just an innocent baby. The crew's ambivalence is affecting the baby. They're reacting to Chakotay's actions, and ... I'm sorry, Captain, but your attitude on this is also being weighed fairly carefully."

Janeway hoped all those years of command school had helped. She kept her expression featureless, immobile, and distant.

Kes tried again. "Captain, think about it. The child's been on board Voyager for nearly two months now, and Chakotay still hasn't given him a name."

Janeway had to admit that as evidence, it was damning. Kes was really on a roll.

"Frankly, I don't know what else to do except to ask for your help. I believe that the consequences of lack of intervention will be long term and significant for them both if something isn't done soon."

Janeway sighed and admitted defeat. "What do you suggest? Chakotay will certainly treat any advice I have on child rearing and his personal life with the disrespect it deserves."

"I'm not asking that you talk to the Commander. It won't help, at least not right now. But please, get to know the child. Spend time with him. Your willingness to accept the child as part of Voyager will change the crew's view, and will help Chakotay to integrate him into the community. It may even help Chakotay accept him, and ultimately help a bond develop between them."

Seska's child. It was a lot to ask. But Kes was right. She should try, if only to help Chakotay integrate the child into Voyager. It was her responsibility... but ... the "newest member of her crew." It didn't feel right to her. "All right. I'll look into it, but I'm not sure my presence will be viewed as anything more than interference."

"Thank you, Captain."

Janeway spent the rest of the day listening to the crew, talking to some of the caregivers, and unobtrusively watching Chakotay. Finally, she began to plan strategy.

**Chapter 2: Janeway starts her strategy**

Chakotay signaled for entrance to Carey's quarters after his shift in order to retrieve the child. Odd, that Carey, a Starfleet officer, had been nearly the first to volunteer to help. But then, Carey had a wife and young children on Earth. Perhaps taking care of the child helped him reconcile his own loss in some way.

Carey was slow in responding. He finally opened the door, and looked surprised. "Uhhh...Commander? How are you? I'm sorry, sir. I didn't expect you."

Chakotay ran Kes' schedule through his mind, silently acknowledging that he'd expected he'd mess it up eventually. The schedule was amazing, complicated, and erratic. Twenty crewmembers were participating; their shifts often lasting as little as an hour at a time. Like Carey, most of the volunteers had children at back in the Alpha Quadrant. He didn't know what to make of it all, except to be grateful. He supposed that a child, any child, was important to some of the crew who had left family behind. But not all the crew were quite so tolerant. He'd also heard the grumbling and gossip when they thought he wasn't around.

He was too tired lately. He wasn't paying enough attention to detail. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Carey. I thought you were listed. Do you know who has the child?"

"Commander, I *was* scheduled to have him. But the Captain came and picked him up two hours ago."

"The Captain?" Chakotay couldn't manage to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

Carey noticed his astonishment. "I'm sorry, sir. I assumed she'd mentioned it to you. " Carey looked as uncomfortable as a man could be, given the circumstances.

"Yes, well, it probably slipped my mind. Again, I'm sorry to bother you, and thank you." He could nearly feel Carey's relief filter through the air in reaction.

"No problem, sir. You know, he really is a cute little guy, even though he is a little cranky at times. Reminds me of my second son in a way."

He forced Carey to look at him directly, and said with absolute certainty, "Carey, she'll get us back. You'll see them again."

Carey looked away for a moment, and then back again. "Yes, sir."

Chakotay forced what he hoped was a smile and changed the topic back to the original point. "But in the meantime, I appreciate all you've done to help."

"It's no problem, Commander. I like him."

"Yes... well, thanks again."

He retreated, hoping he'd covered his confusion sufficiently for Carey not to read anything into his comments. Why had Janeway chosen to become involved with the child? Of course, she'd acknowledged its presence in the last two months, even asking about its health, but the interactions had been superficial and casual. She'd left his personal life *personal* until now. He couldn't remember if she'd ever even seen the child. He didn't think so, except, of course, for the day when he'd first brought it on board. A casual Command attitude about its presence was far less worrisome than this latest development.

The truth was he'd been distracted recently. He'd needed to reconcile this new responsibility with his work and other obligations. It was difficult, but he didn't think the problem had escalated enough to affect his performance overall.

"Computer, locate Captain Janeway."

"Captain Janeway is in Commander Chakotay's quarters, deck –

"End." She'd overridden the security codes into his quarters. Nearly unheard of on any starship. Her concerns must be serious if she'd gone that far to make a point. She was clearly unhappy about something. Perhaps the child's presence was causing problems, or Kes's lists, - or more likely - his own performance. Damn.

It had to be his performance. Serving as XO to a diverse crew in a completely unknown area of space wasn't exactly the simplest thing he'd ever done. It was difficult even when he was focused, and took the combination of his experiences in Starfleet and the Maquis to make it work.

Starfleet and Maquis; now that was a dichotomy. Ironically, the current situation had dulled the differences in his mind lately. He was tired. He couldn't even remember what was what, which was probably the problem. He was usually on top of the nuances on the ship. He'd clearly missed something.

As he reviewed the past, the memories merged into a synthesis of sorts. Life in Starfleet in the Alpha quadrant had been a question of either feast or famine. Months would go by where nothing happened except calm exploration in the Alpha Quadrant. Then, a crisis - an attack or anomaly or political problem - blew up and the entire focus of the crew would center on survival. In the Maquis, it had been different. There, life was always on the edge.

Life on Voyager in the Delta Quadrant had elements of both, with its own unique twists. Like life in Starfleet, there were calm periods, but they were intensified by the ship's isolation. Unlike Starfleet, when it was calm the focus of the crew shifted to what had been lost, and on personal differences. There was no future to plan for except the present, and so there was ample opportunity to brood about the small details of daily living. It made the crew tense and command precarious. During the crises, the mood was unlike Starfleet, more like the Maquis. There was no "backup", no way to repair safely. They were on their own.

The crew reactions to the problems were predictable. The Maquis responded with a clear sense of relief in crises, almost as though they were grateful for the chance to be back in action and for the distraction. Although Starfleet personnel handled each crisis professionally, they did it with a distinct unease that was missing from the Maquis. On the other hand, during the calm, Starfleet professionalism really kicked in and the Fleeters tolerated life in the Delta Quadrant with a stoicism that was missing from the Maquis. It was the Maquis who created the most unrest during the calm when they had time to brood.

It had been calm. And he hadn't been paying attention. There'd been some incidents, but he thought he'd gotten to them in time. Evidently, he was wrong. He ran through the latest incidents in his mind. There was the brawl between Ayala and Dalby, the verbal explosion between deAlgier and Carson in Stellar over a misplaced star chart, and on and on. Nothing out of the ordinary. None of it should have gotten to the Captain, unless he'd missed something. He probably had.

He palmed the security code to enable entrance to his quarters, took a deep breath and walked in. The scene was indecipherable. Janeway was working at the terminal at his desk with the child asleep on her shoulder. Her hair was down and she was in casual clothes. The "kitchen" area of his quarters was a disaster. She'd clearly fed the child, replicated some food for herself, and left it all to clean up for later. It was so unlike the Janeway he knew that it left him speechless. He simply stood in the doorway absorbing the image.

She looked up from her work. "Hello, Commander. Nothing to say?"

"Captain? Is there a problem? "

"A problem? I wouldn't call it that. Kes simply suggested that I needed to get to know the 'newest member of my crew'. I decided she was right."

"I'm sorry she bothered you. I know she's become somewhat zealous about 'the schedule' but to ask to you be involved was unwarranted."

Janeway interrupted. "You're mistaken, Commander. She didn't ask me to be part of the schedule. I decided to volunteer myself."

She turned her head to look at the child, and then looked back at him. "Kes told me that he was refusing to eat and sleep, but that seems to be in error. He ate everything designated on his charts, and he's been sound asleep for the last hour."

He couldn't seem to find a response to that other than amazement, so he just kept silent. He felt his stomach turn over from tension. He knew her well enough to know that if she'd decided the child was a problem, or something that demanded command attention, she'd be completely tenacious in her analysis until she found a solution that she felt was satisfactory.

He didn't like being the focus of problem she felt compelled to solve. He'd been there once, when she'd been sent after him, and look at where that had gotten him.

The child stirred and settled back into another position on her shoulder.

He finally found his voice. "Captain, it's my responsibility. With all due respect, I think it would be preferable if you let me take over now."

"Commander, 'with all due respect,'" she said ironically, with an edge in her voice, "he's not an 'it'. You're exhausted, he's calm now, and I'm working on Tuvok's latest recommendations for security enhancements. We're fine, but *you're* not. Why don't you get some rest? This review will take another three hours. I can watch the child during that period."

"Captain, I-"

"Commander, consider it an order. You're exhausted."

She paused, looking up from her work. "Chakotay, it's all right. Please, let me help in this."

It was the last part that undid him. He suddenly realized that he was tired, emotionally and physically. It had been a harrowing two months. He still didn't like it, and still didn't see the point of it all, but he wasn't sure he could fight the determined look in her eyes.

" I suppose if it's really only three hours-"

"Thank heavens. The man shows some signs of sanity. Go to bed."

"Aye, Captain." He couldn't keep the confusion out of his voice.

He stumbled into his sleeping quarters, threw off his boots, and fell into the bed.

He woke from a deep sleep with the feeling that something wasn't right. Then he remembered Janeway and the child.

"Time."

"0215, stardate 5-

"Stop". Two in the morning. He's slept seven hours, and she hadn't woken him. If the gods were with him, she'd left and the child had actually slept .

He looked towards the crib next to his bed. No.

He stumbled into the main part of his living quarters and found her still at work with the child asleep on her shoulder. The room had been picked up, but there were uncountable numbers of coffee cups by his desk. He tried to wake up, to focus, but he was still dazed by how deeply he's slept.

"Hello, Commander, I hope you're feeling more rested now."

"Captain, it's two in the morning. What are you doing?"

"I told you. I needed to finish this. Here was as good a place as anywhere, and you needed the rest."

He didn't fall for it. He could tell from her expression that she hadn't expected he would.

He decided to get to the point. "The child and I are doing fine. Thank you for your concern but perhaps you should get to the real reason you're here."

"I told you that. I wanted to get to know the child."

His expression must have conveyed his disbelief, because she followed up, angrily. "Chakotay, quit being an ass and accept the help when it's offered."

He stiffened and used her title for emphasis. "*Captain*, Starfleet regulations do not permit you to become involved in my personal life. As I said, the child and I are fine."

"The hell they don't. And the hell you're fine. You're exhausted; he's exhausted."

There it was; the comment he'd been waiting for. He decided to get the situation over with.

"Are you suggesting my performance has been affected?"

"I'm telling you that you need help with him."

"Understood. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

She stood up and took the child into the sleeping quarters, returning almost immediately without him. "You **don't** understand. And I should have expected that you'd play the martyr in this. But I'm not going to argue with you about it, at least not now. Go back to bed, Commander. There's a good chance he might continue to sleep. Goodnight."

She left the room before he could react. He went back to bed, too tired to care. The child started crying an hour later, but he'd at least gotten some sleep. He got up, put it on his shoulder, and began working at his desk.

**Chapter 3: The Janeway Wall**

Chakotay waited throughout the next day for Janeway to finish the conversation. In preparation, he'd gone through the logs but he hadn't found anything that merited the Captain's intervention in the XO duties. He'd been a captain under desperate, impossible circumstances. He knew what merited intervention from his own view. And by now he knew what Janeway thought merited intervention with the world of Starfleet protocol behind her. Either way, there were no incidents.

He'd reviewed their conversation so many times that he was bored with the memory. He couldn't see anything in it beyond her concern about his performance, but she hadn't said that directly, and she hadn't dressed him down. And he was tired enough that he suspected if she *did* try to dress him down he'd probably resign his "commission".

Starfleet be damned. He'd gotten into this because he was Maquis. A nice irony, that. If her version of Starfleet couldn't handle a child he was resigning.

Damn. He had to get a grip. Resigning his commission because he was tired, annoyed, and irritated was hardly rational. A Starfleet cadet, even a Maquis insurgent, knew better than that. They were in the Delta quadrant, for heaven's sakes. What was he going to do? Sleep? Stay in his quarters for 67 years?

He shook his head. The sleep sounded pretty good. Still, he'd better get it together and fast. That was the part that worried him.

He'd talked to Kes, Janeway's one reference to someone else, but all Kes would say was that she thought it was healthy that the Captain was taking an interest in the child. Unfortunately, he couldn't order Kes to tell him anything. The thought was unhealthy anyway.

If Janeway had a problem with him, it was best that he dealt with it with Janeway.

But Janeway was unavailable. She spent the morning in Engineering with B'Elanna working on warp core adjustments, and he had already committed to the afternoon in Environment, so he couldn't change that without questions about his performance, or lack thereof.

After his shift, he gave up worrying, checked the schedule, and went to pick up the child from Hendrickson from Stellar Cartography.

"Hello, Hendrickson."

"Commander, I didn't expect you. The Captain -"

Gods. He should have expected it. Unbelievably stupid on his part. He tried to rally and interrupted, " - came and picked him up two hours ago."

"Yes, sir."

Hendrickson looked as confused as he felt. Chakotay pulled himself together and smiled. "Of course. I just wanted to thank you for helping earlier."

"No need, Commander. You know, I kind of like the little guy."

"Yeah. Well, thanks again."

He slumped against the wall of the corridor after the door closed and sighed.

"Computer locate Captain Janeway."

"The Captain is in the Mess Hall, deck six."

"Stop." Not his quarters. She'd taken the child into a public forum, with the alpha crew at dinner.

Janeway was a lot of things, but she wasn't stupid. And *he* wasn't stupid enough to presume that she didn't know that he'd never taken the child into a public situation before. She'd done it deliberately without asking him. The child was *his* problem, and his responsibility. Even Starfleet allowed him that. He knew the regs about children. He'd enforced them on the Einstein.

Command was not allowed to become involved in family decisions concerning children, only in those issues that affected the health, performance of duty, or safety of the crew.

Taking the child to the Mess Hall without his permission violated at least five Starfleet regulations. She was deliberately breaking the regs and was clearly intent on blurring the lines between personal and professional.

And he couldn't discuss anything with her in public, unless he wanted the gods only knew what to fall apart.

The scene in the Mess Hall was as bad as he'd expected. Janeway was feeding the child, discussing the day with crew members who stopped at the table to talk. B'Elanna and Paris were sitting with her. Paris took the child from Janeway ... Paris... he moved in and took it before something happened.

Paris looked at him with surprise and suspicion, a grin finally spreading over his face. "Commander, I do have six nephews, you know."

No, he hadn't known, but he'd be damned if he was going to let Paris get to him.

Somehow, he managed to mumble something like thanks to Paris and started to turn away to take the child back to quarters, but Janeway interrupted.

"Commander, you must have forgotten. I promised to bring him with me to see the Doctor later. He wanted to give him a check-up. Why don't you get some sleep?"

He stared at her, unable to say anything that wouldn't make the situation worse than it already was. He looked away, trying to hold in his anger at her presumption. The room seemed suddenly quiet, and Paris' grin was disappearing.

Paris interrupted. "You know, Chakotay, I wouldn't mind taking him for a while. I can -"

B'Elanna broke in. "Stow it, Tom, and put any suggestions you have back in that black hole you call a brain."

Janeway smiled at the interaction. "Good idea, Tom. I want the crew to get used to the baby. Why don't you take him while I finish whatever it is that Neelix has decided to call dinner."

She looked up at him, an unreadable expression crossing her face. "As you can see, Commander, everything's under control here. Why don't you get some sleep? I'll bring him back to you later tonight."

He started to argue, but she stared him down and said quietly, so that only he and perhaps Tom and B'Elanna could hear, "Don't make me make it an order."

He turned and left.

Chakotay went back to his quarters, and fumed. He was furious at her for taking decisions out of his hands and for her interference and furious at himself for the relief he felt at being able to relax for a few hours.

Finally, he admitted that he was also annoyed at his irrational refusal to her offer of help. To all appearances, her intentions weren't hostile, even with the comments from the night before about his performance. She hadn't put him on report, and she seemed to actually tolerate the child.

Her only stated motive so far was to give him a chance to sleep. He didn't trust his view of that at all. Janeway was never that obvious or that simple to read.

After an hour of unproductive meandering, he decided to give in to inevitable nova that was Janeway on a roll, and sleep on it.

Paris showed up at the door at 0130 with the child, looking as nervous as a Cardassian kumar who'd sighted a predator. Chakotay eyed him with resignation and some amusement. Amazing, what some sleep could do.

"Lost her nerve, did she?"

"Commander ?

Chakotay took the child. " Don't worry, Lieutenant. I never shoot the messenger. Thanks for looking after him."

"Actually, the Captain did most of the looking after. You know, Commander, I kind of like the little guy. But, he certainly does sleep a lot."

"Really. Well, thanks again. Goodnight."

The impasse went on for two weeks. Every night, Janeway took the child before he was off duty and Paris showed up at 0130 to bring him back. He slept from 1800 until Paris arrived, and then worked most of the night while the child slept fitfully.

At first he was too tired to care what she did. But by the end of the second week, the child was sleeping more regularly and he seemed to be coming out of some sort of daze.

She was gradually introducing it to all of the crew. He knew that from the comments he got. By the end of the two weeks, Kes' list of volunteers had risen to include nearly half of them.

Janeway wouldn't talk to him. She had avoided him except in public forums since the night in his quarters. Once, when he'd tried to confront her in her Ready Room, she'd beaten Tuvok out of the bushes before he'd had a chance to start.

He'd sent messages, one a day, since the whole fiasco began, requesting an audience. They always came back "request denied". For strategy, he supposed it was unparalleled. The "Janeway wall". She'd done it to him before.

He just wished he knew what she was up to so he could start to reconcile how he felt about it.

Although now more resigned than angry, he still couldn't decide whether he wanted to murder her or admit that he needed to thank her for at least some of her dictatorial and misguided interference. Maquis humor. He considered murder as an option, but decided against it. He didn't have the energy for the mutiny afterward and he'd he be irritated that she wasn't around to help fix the mess she'd created.

Finally, he just continued to let her play out whatever game she had in mind, and waited for her to get around to explaining the rules. The humor in the situation was Paris' sheepish and somewhat confused expression as the weeks went on. After the first week, they developed a routine where Paris simply handed him the child without comment.

At the end of the second week Chakotay decided to break the impasse.

"What does she have on you, Paris? I'm going to have to readjust the duty roster if she intends to switch you to gamma hours."

"Commander, it's not what you think. All I do is pick him up at 0125. The Captain's the one who's been taking care of him. Although I must say, a lot of us like him a lot. He's a-"

"- I know, a 'cute little guy,'" Chakotay finished with irony. If one more person tried to convince him of it, he might *really* be tempted to violence. And he didn't want to even think about the Captain watching him for the last two weeks.

"Enough, Lieutenant. My thanks for your help. I suspect Janeway will get around to relieving you of this new responsibility soon enough, but in the meantime-"

"Chakotay, I like him. Lots of the crew like him. We just wish you'd like him."

Paris retreated when he saw his expression. " I'm sorry, Commander. That was out of line."

Chakotay took the child, turned, and closed the door on him.

**Chapter 4: Janeway breaks the impasse**

In his more irrational moments, Chakotay thought she was never going to get to the point. Every day, at 1700, he checked for the child's location. He'd learned to do that after the first two fiascoes. It was always with Janeway.

Finally, the situation changed. After his shift, he went to Carey's quarters to pick up the child. Carey was waiting for him when he arrived.

"Commander, how are you? Here he is. You know, I think he's getting bigger. He feels a little heavier."

"Kes seems to think it's gaining weight."

" Could be. He certainly has an appetite lately. He ate two bottles today."

"Really. Well, it may need a diet if this keeps up. "

"No sir, you may not realize it, but he's thin for his age. My first son was a lot like that."

Chakotay almost interrupted, but stopped himself when he noticed Carey was still holding the child, practically refusing to release it. He was saying something about his oldest son and parenting, idiosyncratic stories, but they seemed important to Carey to tell.

"Commander, I don't mean to be out of line, but my wife was gone during my first son's early years. I have some experience with single parenting and I have a few practical tips I'd be glad to share."

Chakotay realized with surprise that not only did Carey really want to tell him but he wanted to hear what he had to say. The child seemed to be some sort of catharsis for Carey, a way to talk about the family he'd left behind.

He was willing to listen. " I'd appreciate that."

"Commander, would you care to stay for some dinner? I have some replicator rations stored up."

" Carey, if you're going to give me advice, I think dinner should be on me."

Throughout dinner, he listened to Carey describe his family. It was another side of the man, one he'd never seen before. If it weren't for the child, he never would have. Carey seemed to think he understood something, he wasn't sure what, but it was obvious that the man needed to talk. So he listened. The "advice" was fragmentary and disjointed, set among stories Carey remembered about his children's youth. In the end, Chakotay found himself aching in sympathy for Carey's loss. When he finally left, he didn't know if he'd helped or done damage by listening.

As he returned to his quarters with the child, he realized that although he'd known its presence would unalterably affect his relationships with members of the crew, the change was occurring in directions he'd never predicted. He suddenly thought of Janeway, and pushed the thought aside just as quickly as it came.

In his quarters, he found Janeway at his desk again, working. He hadn't expected her. He felt some satisfaction, petty, but there, in that she'd probably been waiting for three hours now. After all, he'd been waiting for her to get to the point for two weeks.

"Hello, Captain. Finally come out from hiding?"

She came over and took the child. He thought it strange how natural it seemed to let her have it. Although they'd barely spoken for two weeks, some piece of the barrier of protocol had shattered.

She finally commented, "You might say that. But it depends on if you've gotten enough sleep to develop some common sense." She began on the offensive.

He said mildly, "I don't like being manipulated. But I no longer have visions of my hands around your neck, if that's what you're getting at."

She looked up, smiling, not in the least bothered by his cynical, slightly off sense of humor. "It's a start. I was rather worried about that for a few days. It would have been bad for morale."

She sat down on the couch with the child. He slopped down next to her, waiting for her to continue, his eyes on the desert painting in front of him.

When she finally said something, the comment seemed disjointed, disconnected to what he thought she had planned.

"Where have you been?" Her tone was odd, almost possessive. He put the thought aside.

"Carey wanted to talk about his wife and sons. I listened. The child slept."

"I see."

"Kathryn, I suppose I need to thank you for what you've done. I won't say I'm not still angry about the way you did it, but you were right. I was tired, my performance was off, and I was too distracted to see it. It's better now that the child's finally sleeping. But I wish you would have just talked to me

about it."

"You weren't willing to talk to anyone. Is that all you think this was about?"

" I don't much like your other objective of introducing the child to the crew, but it doesn't seem to have had too negative an impact on morale, and no one's threatened it yet. I suppose it had to happen eventually. What I don't like is the timing of it being taken out of my control. It wasn't a command decision, and it wasn't yours to make."

"Were you ever going to make it?"

"I don't know. I'll never know now."

"You have a strange view of the crew's attitude. They like him, and having a child on Voyager has added a whole new layer of meaning to the sense of community we've been trying to establish. There's a waiting list of over half the crew on Kes' schedule."

"I know. And I know what you had to do to change their views. But, damn it, Kathryn, you could have asked."

"You weren't talking. You were locked up in a prison of your own making, isolated, unwilling to negotiate, playing the martyr."

"I grew up years ago. I don't need a dictator, no matter how benevolent or how good the intentions, directing my life."

There was silence in the room, as they realized how badly the discussion was degenerating.

"Damn." Janeway exploded on the word, trying to regain some control.

"What?"

"I haven't been in a name calling fight since I was ten years old. I'm sorry."

He sighed, his anger disappearing as rapidly as it had begun. "So am I." He paused, looking every where but at her. The time seemed to stretch to infinity, and the silence was uncomfortable. "So what's next in this game?"

"That's what I came to ask you."

That got him. He stared at her in surprise.

"I know you would have preferred another approach, but you have no idea how stubborn you are. But I'm not here to argue with you. I never intended to continue to manipulate the situation. I just wanted to give you a chance to regain your equilibrium. I'd hoped, after you were more relaxed, we could discuss some options about what to do in the future. You do need help with the child, and I'm volunteering."

" I don't understand."

"Chakotay, you need down time. You can't always have the child with you. And he needs consistent attention from someone else, someone he recognizes. The schedule works well enough for the work shifts, but he needs a connection. I've had him for the last two weeks, and he's calmed down considerably . I think we're developing that kind of connection. I'd like to continue it."

She was describing parenting. She was actually offering to help him parent the child and a part of him was elated at the thought. Unbelievable.

He started laughing; he couldn't help it.

"What?"

"Sorry, but it really is ludicrous - a Starfleet captain helping parent the bastard son of a Cardassian spy and a rebel Maquis. They'd have your commission in the Alpha quadrant."

"Damn it Chakotay, we're not in the Alpha quadrant, and I wouldn't care there either. Is that really how you see him?" She sounded appalled.

"That's not how I see him. That's what he is. How I see him, that's different."

"Tell me."

"You really want to know? You won't like it."

She was holding the child tightly, almost protectively, he noted. "Yes."

"All right, I suppose anything is preferable to this insane situation you've developed. But remember you asked."

He kept his eyes on the painting. "Initially, all I could see was what I suspect Seska expected me to see. Revenge. Betrayal. A lifetime of responsibility and a permanent reflection of my mistakes. At first, it made me ill just to look at him. It took nearly a month to get over that, and I still have waves of hit it me at times."

"Later, as the day to day grind set in, I saw the child as more of a responsibility, an obligation. And, I suppose I felt guilty. I'm his father. None of it was the child's fault and it shouldn't matter. I should care about the child, but I had a hell of a time getting past the anger. I still haven't . I didn't want him around the crew. And I didn't want him around you. You, of course, conveniently took that decision out of my hands."

He knew he was hurting her, but she needed to understand, to quit being so naive, so optimistic.

"Lately, I've been able to see him more objectively, as his own person. After all, I've only heard about thirty times about what 'a cute little guy he is'. There must be some truth to it."

He left out the rest. When he'd brought the child on board, he'd given up any hope that there might someday be something between them. How could he even think about it, when he had a permanent reminder of the darkest time of his life to see to? And she'd understood at the time, at least he thought she had, and had helped create the distance. Now he wasn't sure she'd really known, with her surreal offer to help him.

"I won't have anyone else paying the price for my errors, at least not more than I can help. Especially not you."

There. It was done. It was said. He prayed that she'd get up and leave him alone to deal with the problem and grant him what little peace he had left.

" Chakotay, I'm sorry."

He stared at her, completely astonished. It was the last possible thing he'd expected her to say.

" You have to believe me. Seska wasn't your responsibility. None of it was your fault. She was an expert. You couldn't have seen it. I didn't and I knew about the infiltration program."

"The what?"

"The Cardassian infiltration program. They'd been running it for about six months. They'd destroyed at least a dozen Maquis cells by the time Voyager was sent after you. It's where I got the idea for Tuvok." She grimaced and continued.

"Seska wasn't your fault. If anyone, I should have seen what she was, but she was too good. I've never blamed you for anything more than an overactive sense of responsibility. And the universe knows I understand that problem. When you brought back the child, the only thing I felt was a blistering, furious anger at her for hurting you and at myself for not having caught her. I'd never felt that way before, about anyone or anything. I pulled back, and left you to misunderstand and accept all the responsibility. I'm sorry."

"Kathryn, that's insane. You have an astounding ability for twisting reality and accepting responsibility where there is none. You didn't sleep with her. I'm the one she got close enough to make this all possible."

"I told you. They were good. Very very good. They had a hundred per cent success rate, or so HQ claimed, when Voyager left. And Tuvok didn't see it either. He was on your ship for six months, knew about the infiltration program, and he's Security."

"If all this is true, why didn't you tell me before now?"

She looked extremely uncomfortable. "I didn't realize until after you went after her to get back the transporter how responsible you felt. And after, you'd seemed to resolve it. It was over, we knew who she was; the past was no longer relevant. I didn't want to destroy what we were building on Voyager."

"Why now?"

"The child. I may have been wrong about not telling you about Seska, but you're wrong about the child. Seska's actions were a betrayal directed specifically against both of us. But the child's innocent, with his own destiny, and a part of you. He's easy to care about. But he needs help, and he needs connection. We're both responsible for him lacking that, but it's something we can fix. The crew's already seen it. They've accepted him for what he is - a new life, new hope for Voyager, a connection to the future, not the past."

"He's my son, and my responsibility, biologically, legally, and morally. You don't owe anything, not to anyone, even if there was a 'Cardassian infiltration program' you neglected to mention. I won't accept your feeling responsible for the situation."

She shook her head, and sat silently for a moment. "All right, if that's what you want. But can you accept that he really does need help, and that I want to help you both?"

"I don't know. I told you, I don't want you near him. But I know you're right about his need for a connection, and I just can't seem to help him."

He paused, unable to take it in, to absorb everything she's said. It was tempting, to let go of the anger, to let her accept some of the responsibility, to absolve him of guilt, and to have her back in his life, in his child's life. It felt like she'd thrown him a lifeline, one he should ignore, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from grabbing onto. "I suppose we could try something on a temporary basis for a while."

"Thank you."

He could see relief, hope, and something else in her eyes. He looked away. It was important not to read too much into her offer. He was exhausted again. The conversation had been too intense, too demanding, too full of nuances he needed time to comprehend.

"I need some sleep. Is there anything else?"

"When did you stop calling him it?"

Damn her. He hadn't even noticed. "Kathryn, don't push. I can't give you answers but I'm willing to give you a day at a time. You're going to have to live with that. "

She handed him his child, and left quickly. "Goodnight Commander. Sleep well."

He watched her go, then looked down at his son. "You've certainly made your presence known. I'd like to know how you got her attention that fast."

He was rambling. He realized with some surprise that it was the first time he's ever said anything to the child directly. Afraid to test his luck with putting them both to bed while the child was asleep and he was so tired, he simply kept him in his arms while they both rested.

**Chapter 5: Janeway's motives **

He was able to accept Janeway's involvement with the child once he had learned her motives. Those boiled down to two words - responsibility and guilt. He understood the implications of both well, not that he thought she was right.

She felt responsible and guilty about Seska, and felt an obligation as Captain to help resolve the problems he was having with the child that were affecting his performance. In the latter, she was within her rights as the CO of the ship. And he had to admit that he probably wouldn't have accepted the help from anyone else. She also felt responsible for the child, as it was a member of her crew now. Given that perspective, her intervention did make sense, temporarily.

His own motives for agreeing to her involvement were much simpler and far more awkward. The child needed the help. He needed to sleep and to adjust to the demands of raising the child. And, although it was embarrassing to admit even to himself, he liked having her back in his life, even tangentially.

He rarely saw her for any extended period of time, but he still felt connected to her. The truth was he missed New Earth. And that was a thought he should erase immediately from his mind. That was over, and he needed to remember it.

They had developed a temporary pattern of sorts. She'd pick up the child, take him wherever, and bring him back at 0130. Often, he was asleep when she put the child in his crib and he'd wake later to find the child there and her gone.

She'd taken to coming and going in his quarters with her own unique erratic regularity; sometimes needing something, at others asking questions. She never asked for permission, and he couldn't seem to broach the topic, even though he normally hated his privacy being invaded.

It didn't seem to matter.

She accepted his authority on issues related to the child, although he could tell that it often went against her natural inclinations towards leadership and control.

Their working relationship also settled into a pattern. In this, her decisions were absolute and unquestioned. They were both polite, professional and distant. And careful.

He had maintained his early evening sleeping schedule even though the child now slept through most nights. He got huge amounts of work done in the night as there were no other distractions.

He started taking the child to the gym in the early hours of the morning. His son slept, and he worked out. No one was around, the gamma shift not yet off duty, and alpha still asleep. He grew to value the time with the child when they were alone without distraction, or complication. Once he'd started, he kept talking to him, and he swore, at times, that his son understood.

But the situation with Janeway had to stop. He couldn't continue to take advantage of her sense of responsibility indefinitely. He was sleeping, and the child clearly feeling better. They were over the rough period. He was grateful for her intercession, but there was no reason to continue it any longer.

If the Doctor could verify that the child was indeed healthy, he needed to talk to Janeway.

He took the child in to see the Doctor and Kes for a checkup.

"He's fine, Commander. In perfect health. He's gained weight and he's showing advanced growing signs and neural path development for a child of four months and 1/2, as far as I can determine given his unique biology."

"Thank you, Doctor." Four and a half months. Amazing. It had only been four months. One while Seska had him, then two alone, and the last six weeks with Janeway fighting him or helping him, he wasn't sure which.

"Commander?"

"I'm fine, Doctor."

"Are you? Kes told me that you've been shifting your sleeping pattern to accommodate the child. Now that he's sleeping regularly throughout the night, you should readjust . And, Commander, some social interaction would be beneficial as well."

"I'll think about it." So that was that. There was no possible reason to permit Janeway to help with the child any longer. It would be an unacceptable encroachment to continue to take advantage of her sense of responsibility.

Kes stopped him as he was leaving. "Commander, could I speak to you for a moment?"

He nodded, and she continued. "It's about the child and the Captain."

Chakotay stiffened. " Go on."

"You may not be aware of it, but the Captain's quite taken with the child."

"I know she' s felt obligated to help. I intend to relieve her of that responsibility now that he's sleeping regularly."

"Commander, please let me finish." He stopped. " I think you should watch the Captain, and listen, before you decide what to do. As I said, I think she's developed a connection to him, and one that's healthy for her as well. It must be difficult to be that alone, with so much responsibility. The child is an easy connection, don't you think?"

No, he didn't. But that didn't mean Janeway didn't see the child that way.

Strange, but possible, if Kes was right. The child could be an easy connection for her, with simple needs and simple requirements. Still, it was unlikely. He just didn't see Janeway as the maternal type. Even the thought made him smile.

Later, after Janeway had taken the child for the evening, he sat in his quarters and considered both the Doctor's and Kes' recommendations. The problem was he had assumptions and perceptions, but very little data. He needed to see Janeway with the child to have a better understanding of the situation.

But it wasn't only the question of what Janeway thought about the child that he'd missed recently. The universe only knew what he'd missed concerning crew morale during his self-imposed isolation of the last three months.

Luckily, there'd been no command problems during that time beyond B'Elanna's eternal fidgeting with the warp core. The last four visits to planets had been peaceful, simple missions to locate resources.

He thanked the gods for their intervention, or patience, and decided it was time that he made an appearance at Sandrines.

He'd forgotten how much of a madhouse Sandrine's could be when Paris was bored. And of course, Paris *was* bored, given the current calm. He walked in, unnoticed, and observed the insanity. Sandrine appeared, gave him his favorite beer, and disappeared into the crowd.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to see Janeway with the child at a table in the back of the bar along with B'Elanna, Kes, Tuvok, and Kim.

His son, as usual, was asleep. Now that the child had finally gotten the hang of sleeping, he did it constantly, no matter what the situation. Chakotay realized that he'd be worried if the Doctor hadn't assured him that it was normal for his age.

He stayed out of sight and watched them. Janeway held the child protectively, fielding crew questions and requests with a cheerful smile, but with a "hands-off" approach.

His son slept through it all, resting on her shoulder. He found a chair and just watched, mesmerized by them both, by her.

He'd forgotten how incredibly beautiful she was. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember, but he felt himself caught, entranced with her presence.

Comments from their last real conversation came back to him; things she'd implied but he'd not understood. But no, it was best to leave that alone, and accept the present at face value, not what he hoped might be there.

Paris, as usual, caught him out. "Commander, we haven't seen you in nearly three months. Why don't you come on in and join the fun?"

"Tom, I'm fine." But Janeway had seen him and was staring at them.

Now that he knew what to look for, he could see wariness in her eyes. Of course, it was only in her eyes. Her "command posture" had kicked in, her body projecting calm. But his son sensed her wariness too, and woke up, crying.

He felt like the enemy.

As crew members began to look at them, he remembered that the last time he'd been in a public spot with his son was the incident in the Mess Hall. He shouldn't have come. But he was here now, and he couldn't hide from the situation.

He walked over to the table. " Hello, Captain. Kes, B'Elanna, -"

She interrupted before he got through the salutations. "Commander, I thought you were asleep."

The child kept crying though it all. Most of the crew was beginning to be distracted. Even in Sandrines. Even in a "bored Paris" program of Sandrines.

He stopped whatever she was going to say. "Captain, maybe you'd better give him to me. He's making a scene. Inappropriate, and probably genetic. Predictable."

She handed him the child, who quieted immediately and fell back to sleep.

She looked surprised, and he realized that, against all probability, they'd both developed bonds with his son over the last month.

Kes was right. Janeway did care about the child. Even with their current arrangement of joint child care, they'd never discussed it. Now, obviously, was not the time or place. His presence was attracting a great deal of attention, and the incident with his son would spread gossip for days.

Best to tread lightly, under the circumstances.

"I'm glad to see you here, Commander. Does this mean you've decided to return to the living?" Janeway's tone was completely neutral. He realized, suddenly, that she was still worried that he'd come to take the child.

He hadn't intended to upset her. He was still adjusting to the idea that she cared about the child. He handed the child back to her.

"Here. He's better now. You'd better take him back. I'm 'off duty' for another four hours, so he's your problem, thank the universe." He said casually, "The Doctor suggested I readjust to a standard schedule now that he's sleeping through the night."

There was sudden movement at the table. Kes looked at Tuvok, who nodded. She then turned to Janeway and commented, "Lieutenant Tuvok and I want to introduce CJ to the new hydropool. Would it be all right if we took him now?"

Janeway nodded in the affirmative and handed Tuvok the child. Chakotay watched as the Vulcan and Kes left the table.

"B'Elanna, come on. Pool." That from Paris, no less. "Harry, come help."

Kim, slow on the uptake, looked at Paris in surprise. "I just beat you ten minutes ago."

"No time like the present to try again. Captain, Commander." Paris literally dragged Harry and B'Elanna away from the table.

The end result of Paris' machinations was that they were left alone in a room of probably 70 people. Chakotay wasn't sure how many holograms there were.

Janeway broke the silence that had settled. "You certainly have a sense of drama, Commander."

He winced. "Sorry. I'd forgotten what a cesspool of gossip Sandrine's is. I was awake and decided to come out and socialize. The Doctor DID recommend it." The last part came out somewhat defensively.

She sighed and shook her head. "You've every right to be here. You just took the crew by surprise. For that, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I should have thought it through before I came."

They stopped talking. Awkward with so much to say and so many people around.

He felt unaccountably cheerful suddenly and smiled at her. "Well, as long as we've started gossip already, we might as well get some enjoyment out of it."

Janeway looked at him suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

"Dance with me."

"Are you insane?" Her expression of astonishment was worth the risk. Even if she refused him, he'd caught her off guard. He was amused at the thought. He couldn't remember ever seeing Janeway off center before.

"Probably. Hell, Kathryn, one dance. It'll keep them busy gossiping for a month and give them something to do. It's quiet now. Besides, it'll keep my imagination busy for a month too. Forget about all of it and dance with me."

He gestured toward the middle of the room. "Look out there. There's at least 40 people, 30 or so holograms, who knows, on the floor. We'll hardly be noticed."

"You ARE insane. I've known it all along, I just didn't want to believe it."

"You should have figured it out from the Maquis part. C'mon."

He nearly dragged her out of the chair. She looked annoyed, and then resigned, as he saw her realize that to stop now would cause even more of an uproar than simply dancing with him.

The music was soft, and slow, and it was appropriate to hold her close while they moved.

She seemed small and fragile in his arms, but he knew her strength, and wasn't mislead by the feeling. She'd probably kill him for this, when she regained her balance. He decided to enjoy it while it lasted, and pay later.

He pulled her in closer, inhaling the scent of her hair, and enjoying the feel of her softness.

He looked around and saw that they were being studiously ignored. Paris had convinced B'Elanna to dance, and they'd set up a barrier so that the Captain and he weren't the obvious targets of curious eyes.

After a few moments, he noticed a few others join in the blockade; Carey and Robertson from Environment, Kim and a woman from Security, de Algeir.

By the time Janeway'd had successfully stifled her irritation and looked up at him, they were alone again, in a crowd of people.

He smiled. "It's all right, you know. Paris sent in the Cavalry. No one's watching. What did you do to him, anyway? I've been meaning to ask for what seems like months."

"I gave him a job at Conn. I'm hoping he won't realize for another 67 years or so that someone else would have eventually. Chakotay, I've been considering some alternatives to -"

"Kathryn, could we just relax, and enjoy the moment? I don't think I've done anything but worry for the last three months."

She shook her head, but settled into him, and he enjoyed the luxury of simply holding her, with no responsibilities or demands pressing at them.

It finally occurred to him that he'd been holding her for much longer than a simple dance. "We'd better stop, or there'll be gossip for a year, not just next month."

She looked back at him cynically. "Commander, if the Kazon don't murder you soon, I probably will."

He laughed. "I doubt it. You couldn't stand all the hours with the child. No ,one could. Although he seems to have straightened up nicely, recently."

He took her back to the table. "Kathryn, what's the 'CJ' business about?"

She smiled at him innocently. It made him very, very nervous.

She finally said, mildly, "You're not going to like it."

He smiled back and accepted the inevitable. "I'd already figured that out."

"They needed something to call him, and you wouldn't give him a name. It's a nickname. CJ."

"as in-

"Chakotay junior."

" Oh hell."

She looked totally unrepentant, even amused. It was annoying.

She finally commented, "Well, it's *your* fault, you know. He needs a name. Every sentient race in the Federation provides its members with a name. Your own tribe places special emphasis on names. Ergo, Commander, whether you want to get around to it or not, he needs a name."

He said mildly, "There have only been three times in my life, which is remarkable, considering, when I've actually been inclined to murder you. The first was when I beamed on to your ship and Tuvok suddenly changed loyalties. The second was after that fiasco of a scene in the Mess Hall. This is the third."

He couldn't help smiling, though. It was an awful nickname.

She laughed. "You're not going to murder me. You couldn't stand all those hours alone with the child." She mimicked him, and he smiled again.

Encouraged, she started in again. "Chakotay-"

"No. You know, I had no idea you had a sadistic streak. Gods, 'CJ'. What a thing to do to him. I'm going to have to keep better track of what's going on, if I've any chance of saving him from permanent damage. Why *that*, for heavens sake? "

"It was the best I could come up with at the time."

He suspected, suddenly, that it was also bad enough that she thought it would force him to act on the name issue. The innocent look on her face confirmed the suspicion. He stopped smiling and said, "Captain, it's not your -"

"I know. -my decision to make."

He sighed. "Kathryn, you're pushing again."

"Chakotay, it's hard. I'm used to being in control."

"I know. But it's not healthy."

She stopped smiling. "If anyone else said that to me, I'd throw him in the brig. I'm tempted to do it anyway, Commander."

He continued, more mildly, his voice sympathetic. "Kathryn, you've got to let go of it. It's not healthy for you, and it wouldn't be healthy for the ship. No one could survive that kind of pressure and come out sane."

She sighed and then grimaced at him. He watched her anger diffuse. She finally commented, "Good advice?"

He laughed. " How does it feel?"

She sighed again. "Not very damn well. All right, I get the message. But will you at least think about it?"

"Enough. I'll think about it."

"Thank you."

They fell silent for a while. He finally brought up the issue that was hovering in the air. "Kathryn, we do need to talk about the change in my schedule. It going to have some effect on how we arrange things from here on out."

"I know. I've been waiting for it. Perhaps we can talk about it tomorrow." It was more a statement than a question. He nodded and she continued. "But right now, we better pick up 'CJ' and head back. 'Shift change' is almost here, and I need some sleep, even if you don't anymore."

"Aye, Captain."

**Chapter 6: Chakotay starts some strategy of his own**

Chakotay picked up the child early, beating Janeway to it. He thought it was best for them to talk privately. He had an idea about how to do that. He was a reasonable cook. Replicators were few on Maquis ships and on Maquis worlds. He thought she might enjoy a meal away from Neelix's mess hall. He knew he would.

She walked in, unannounced, an hour later. He was in the middle of completing a particularly complicated sauce, Bjorian in origin, but stopped when he saw her expression. " Captain, what's wrong? Voyager-?"

She sat down on his couch, and looked back at him. Her tone was completely controlled.

"Nothing's wrong with Voyager. I thought you agreed to discuss it with me before you decided on any changes in CJ's schedule and my involvement."

"I did, that is, I intend to. At least, I'd planned to tonight. I thought we'd agreed to that."

"So did I."

"Damn." Something was burning - the sauce. He went back to see if he could save it. It was possible, barely. Still looking down, he continued, "I thought you'd like some real food for a change. In the Maquis, everyone took a turn in the galley, and I was considered a pretty fair hand at it. So I picked up the child early in order to do some advance prepara-."

He looked up, suddenly realizing what had upset her. "I'm sorry if it appeared differently. I wanted to thank you for your help, and give us a chance to talk. Picking up the child early was just a convenience."

"I see." She looked relieved, and then interested. "It smells heavenly. What is it?"

"It doesn't have a name. I've composed it from traditional dishes of the Anasazi culture around the Colorado and Escalante rivers. That's the area that was underwater before they destroyed the Glen Canyon dam in the Eugenic Wars. I spent a lot of time canyoning there, first on breaks from the Academy, and then in between missions. I developed a taste for the food, so I spent some time researching what traditional food might have been like historically and adapted the ingredients. The sauce, however, is Bjorian. They just seem to work well together."

She moved over next to him to watch what he was doing. "Looks terrific. Anything I can do to help?"

"Yep, you can spend some of those outrageous numbers of replicator rations you have stashed away and 'buy' us some beer. I'm low. And then you can put that on the table." He pointed towards a number of dishes and utensils.

She startled look she gave him was worth the joke. "How in the universe do you know about my stash of replicator rations? I have that account blocked."

"A good XO knows everything. They taught us that at the Academy."

"I'm not going to touch that one. And don't tell me what else a 'good XO' knows. I don't think I can stand the strain. Modesty was obviously missing from your course. I bet you took it from Harrison. "

He smiled at that. She was right; he had taken the class from Harrison. The man was famous throughout the Academy for his pedantic, arrogant approach to the world. But he was an excellent scholar.

She moved over to the replicator to produce two cold beers, and then began work on the table. "Where's CJ?"

"Asleep."

"Again?"

"Yeah, he's definitely making up for lost time. And quit calling him CJ."

"Then -give him a name." They finished it simultaneously.

"I'm thinking about it." He brought the dishes he'd prepared to the table and joined her. "This is ready. Come sit down and eat." She sat, and they dug into what he'd prepared.

"This is incredible. How did you manage to find the ingredients in Neelix's supplies?"

"I had a fair number of replicator rations stashed myself, but most of this is fresh from the hydroponics bay. It's from Kes' project to grow food from the Alpha Quadrant. I offered to 'test' the results of her pilot and report back. I've been eyeing the corn for the last month. I decided to get to it before someone else beat me to it."

"Thank the stars for initiative and strategic planning." There was silence for a time and then she said, "Tell me about the canyoning."

"The canyoning... all right. After I left Danab V, relations were strained with my father and the tribe, so I spent most of my free time on Earth. I did some mountaineering and climbing in the Himalayas and the Andes but the ice started getting to me. And then I found the canyons."

"I thought most of that area is barred from visitors."

"It is. It's one of the World Reserves. But some passes are authorized each year and scientists are still allowed access. I connected with some archaeologists while I was at the Academy, Redbrooke and Huntington, and so they set up access for me when I had leave."

"Free trained help is at a premium in academic circles. I didn't mind going in alone and they weren't worried about me with my Starfleet survival training. I'd also worked in Redbrooke's lab during summers while I was at the Academy, so he trusted my 'tracking' ability, even if he still thinks I shouldn't be allowed near the excavation of a ruin. Essentially, I 'found' sites, or rather, verified their locations from scans, and Redbrooke and company analyzed the worthwhile ones later. Not many, and not often, but the vacations were spectacular."

"Tell me more."

"More.. all right...The canyons never leave you once you've seen them. The images remain strong, but somehow, overall, the word I'd use for them is subtle. The variety of the landscape catches up with you slowly in understanding. The mesas are flat, stark landscape, with unending blue skies above. But beneath, sometimes thousands of feet below, through the canyon cracks, the desert comes alive. It's another world to climb down into or, depending on where you are, to ascend to above.

"Each canyon's unique. In some, there are rivers with beaver dams and cottonwood forests, but they often end in slot canyons. Around you, throughout, the walls are immense, sheer slabs of browns and golds with streaks of black and gray. There's tumbled rock larger than Voyager, often of fantastical shapes made by the water rushing over sandstone for thousands of years. And there's wildlife. I remember the footprints; coyote, snake, lizard, jackrabbit; trails in the sand."

He smiled. "They aren't easy to experience. Not the best of them. For example, slot canyons often require wriggling through holes a meter in diameter, and swimming through deep water to get to the next opening, although occasionally you can slide step the sides to get through. And I did a lot of rock climbing. Sometimes I used ropes, although I usually preferred to do without when possible. But the quiet was worth it all."

He looked up and smiled apologetically. "Sorry. I tend to get carried away. It's not for the out of shape, but nothing that spectacular ever really is. It reminded me of Danab V, or at least parts of it. Somehow when I was there, I felt like I was home."

He paused. "There are other worlds - Vulcan, parts of Mars, with far more spectacular scenery, but to explore on Earth, and to identify ruins over 2000 years old, still lost...well... there was something incredibly special about it."

"It sounds incredibly special. Maybe someday, I'll see it. "

"You can now, if you'd like."

"What do you mean?"

"The last time I went to the canyons was immediately after I'd resigned from Starfleet. I knew I'd never see them again, so even though it was highly irregular, if not illegal, I got Redbrooke to agree to let me take a holocamera. The deal was that I was never to admit it to anyone and to view it alone. I suspect he thought I probably wouldn't live long enough for it to matter, and from his perspective right now, he probably thinks he was right. But I'd guess that if he knew where we were, he wouldn't mind if I showed it to you."

"Chakotay, does everything HAVE to be slightly illegal or off center? How about a nice calm legal scenario with very little drama and no adrenaline rushes for a change?"

"You'd hate it."

She laughed. "You're probably right. I can see how much you've corrupted me. All right, I admit it. I'd love to see it, legal or not. Sometime when our schedules permit."

And that brought them back to the point of the dinner. Reality, and Voyager, and responsibilities, needed to take precedence again. And schedules.

"Do you want anymore of this?" He was procrastinating, but then, that was what he did best except for crisis, and he wasn't up for one of those right now.

"No, thanks. But it was delicious."

He got up, and she joined him, companionably helping him clean up something as simple as a meal in his quarters. It gave him the confidence to follow up with his proposal. It was a long shot, but he'd lived with those all his life.

He took a deep breath, and prepared his comments carefully. "I want to thank you for taking care of my son for the last month. It's helped him, and helped me. But I'm sleeping now, and he's sleeping though the night, and I don't see how we can continue to intrude on your good nature so much."

She started to interrupt, but he stopped her. "Let me finish. I know you've developed a connection to him, and I don't want to break that. But *you* never have any free time anymore, and because he's always asleep when I have him, I can't judge very well how he's doing. And he is my responsibility. I need to know that. So I have a proposal for you that I think will work, but you're not going to like part of it."

"I'm listening."

"I'd like to give him to you for three days a week; and I'd like to have him myself for two days. That'll give you some time to yourself and give me an opportunity to have some time with him as well. The rest of it, well, the rest of it I thought we might play a day at a time."

He paused and took the plunge. She had agreed to dance with him, after all.

"For example, we might spend some of it together with him. Or, depending on schedules, each take a turn at it. You can decide on how much you want to be involved."

"Chakotay, I'm used to having him all the time off duty."

"I know, but we both know that can't continue. This way, you can have responsibility for part of the week, and choose to be involved as you like with the rest."

She looked ready to protest, so interrupted her again. "Kathryn, I appreciate your help, and I know you care about him, but I have to take back the responsibility. I'm trying to work it out with you equitably, so that you can choose how much involvement you want. But part of that is going to involve having me around, if you want to spend more time with him than I think is appropriate to allocate to anyone else."

She looked at him consideringly, and then nodded. "I can live with it. All right, I agree. But I have two conditions. On the other two nights, we take him into public situations with the crew. I want them to see that we're in agreement on integrating him into the community. Your absence hasn't helped."

"I suppose it hasn't. " He sighed, and then looked at her cynically. "I suppose I don't need to ask about the other condition."

"I never faulted you before for being slow on the uptake before."

"I'll give him a name."

"Thank you." If he was inclined towards that sort of thing, he'd have said that her smile nearly blinded him in its intensity.

He gave him a name. After some thought, he gave him his father's name. It wasn't practice on his homeworld, but it was something the Voyager crew would understand. And if he didn't survive, it was a choice he hoped his son would understand someday, given that the child was going to grow up on a ship whose crew placed emphasis on generational continuity through names. Identity and connection. He hoped his son would know that he had planned to return to Danab V and that there was a place waiting for both of them on that world. If his son made it back, the rest would be taught to him, provided the planet was still there. If it was destroyed, and the culture gone, then the child would know that he'd intended a connection for him.

At least he hoped he would. There was a chance that Kolopac would be confused because he'd broken tradition in the naming. He decided to leave a log, and tell Janeway, even though it went against his inclinations towards privacy. Some things were better said, rather than left unspoken.

He let Janeway take control of the naming ceremony after he'd thought about the expected traditions that could be adapted to fit within the context of a multicultural crew, and what had to be left private, for later. He set up conditions, and she agreed to compromise. He supposed it was progress, of a sort.

Janeway and he settled into the new schedule warily at the onset, careful of each other's privacy. On the two days of "joint custody", they took the child to dinner in the mess hall, and then to Sandrine's or the gym. She beat him at pool consistently, and occasionally, he convinced her to dance with him. In the gym, he taught her Maquis tactics, and she came back with a few moves of her own from akido that often threw him, literally.

He believed now, although she denied it, that her comments about the importance of his presence for the crew to accept the child was just smoke designed to draw him out socially. Kolopac had found his own place in the crew, with or without his approval. On Janeway's "integrate him socially days", the child was often spontaneously watched over by volunteers and returned to them later. The child was a focus and a sense of hope for many.

But his "adoption" often left him alone with Janeway for hours at a time.

And so they began to talk, when one of them wasn't picking themselves off the floor after a particularly challenging defense maneuver . He learned a great deal about her mind, and the way it worked, and found the experience fascinating. He realized now that he'd never understood her, not even on New Earth. Voyager, and science, and Starfleet were as integral to her as breathing.

She was a real scientist in the true measure of the word. He'd known a number of "brilliant" scientists in his life. They littered the Academy. In his experience, they tended to fall into three categories: "the egos" who didn't give a damn about anyone or anything who were driven by their desire for fame and success. Then there were the "pros". They were highly intelligent individuals with a focus and drive that would have made them successful in nearly any field. They'd just chosen a career in science and so learned to think that way.

Janeway was of the third group; rare, and unusual, different. She had been "born" a scientist. Methodical, oriented toward detail and practical example, and unwilling to generalize without ample proof, she had an inherent and systematically deductive approach to the world and in everything she did.

But, like all the really great scientists, her logic was cut through with moments of brilliance, usually under stress, when the solutions to a problem meant the life or death of them all and came to her in lightning fast logical connections that often left the rest of them in the dust.

Because her view of everything was inherently deductive, her social reactions and attitudes towards the crew were particularly complex. Here, she was a paradox, one even after watching her and talking to her about it, he still didn't completely understand. She was a brilliant leader, almost Machiavellian in her approach to broad general issues related to crew morale and performance. She'd be frightening to watch when maneuvering through political situations with HQ.

But at the personal level, she was a mystery. Part of it was learned. He knew from discussions about her past that she'd grown up - trained, really -in the highly complex political structure of Starfleet HQ. On the surface, she was charismatic, poised, and confident, able to say the right thing instantly to create a "community" and a sense of belonging and to leave each individual feeling like they'd had personal contact with the Captain, a captain who "understood". And yet, he knew her well enough now to understand that it was all completely distant to her. The crew viewed her separation from them as being appropriate; she was "the captain". He supposed another part of her style came from command training as well. But he'd taken the same courses, commanded his own ship, and knew that it wasn't simply learned. The training had served to enhance characteristics and tendencies inherent in her psychological make-up.

In personnel situations one to one with the crew, she treated each incident as unique, not to be generalized into supposed patterns of behavior, or predictable outcomes. It was outside of her character to engage in any sort of "gossip", or assumptions about crewmembers attitudes towards each other.

Not that she was unobservant. She just didn't discuss it or generalize in any way. In many respects, he thanked the gods for her approach. Another captain, one with preconceived views or who generalized more, would never have accepted the Maquis as easily as she had.

But it had also made life as her XO difficult. At first, her silence and distance had bothered him. It was highly unusual in command crews. He thought she'd been testing him or just didn't trust him. Not letting him into the plans for the search for a spy on Voyager had left him jumpy for months, speculating on her reasons. Now that he knew her mind, and the way it worked, he was certain that her attitudes toward him and his performance as XO had been reactions to each incident individually as it occurred. There were no generalizations or personal opinions or suspicions that were being withheld. She simply didn't have any except about the specifics of an incident at hand. She was totally objective, and distant. They were completely opposite in that.

He hadn't joined Starfleet for the science, although he was adept enough at the basics in nearly any area of the ship. He'd joined because of his fascination with other cultures and individuals reactions to the cultures. He'd been around long enough to believe that in group behavior, there were patterns, predictable attitudes, and sometimes with careful thought about the politics of a situation, problems could be end-run before they started. Very soft science, from her view, but there was a logic to it. It was imperfect. Sometimes he guessed wrong, and something blew up, but more often than not he guessed right.

It was a sore point in communication between them. He couldn't even begin to explain to her why he set up the duty rosters the way he did; she'd think he was out of his mind. Maybe he was. But it was better to be careful than sorry later. He had his own blind spots, usually when he was personally involved somehow ...Seska.. he'd missed it completely. Unbelievably stupid, no matter what she said; at least that was how he felt about it still.

Knowing her now, he understood why the biggest professional conflicts between them had been over his responses to the "blow ups" between crew members. He was in charge of crew discipline, and after incidents he preferred to get to the root of the problem, discover the cause and solve that. She saw no logic in it, seeing each incident as separate, and something that should be handled on a one-time basis, with discipline, if necessary, and then left alone. Her approach would have worked perfectly on a Starfleet ship in the alpha quadrant, but out here, with such a multicultural crew, it made his job a great deal more complex, although she backed his decisions once made. Starfleet protocol. And so he usually tried to get the decision made before she even heard of the problem.

But the end result was that he had absolutely no idea what she really thought of people. Even of him. Especially of him, because his view of that was clouded by his own emotions. The maneuvering she'd gone through with Kolopac was typical. Identify the problem, select a solution, and use Machiavellian tactics, if necessary, to assure that the process was complete. Objective, and distant, although he suspected she'd surprised herself in how much she'd become attached to the child. And he thought he saw signs that she saw him as a friend, and an acceptable companion, lately.

He'd hoped to continue to get to know her better. Then the Delta quadrant blew up on them, and there was no time to concentrate on anything except survival.

TBC …


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N. **Thanks so much to SusanC for finding the order of this story! as the wayback machine did not have a correct order and I could not find it in my files. Honestly, jeez, even as the author, I didn't have a final copy, or so I thought (I finally found the file, I think).

I hope you like the tale. I've not edited a lot; when this was originally written in 1998, long paragraphs weren't uncommon. Now, even I have the urge to fix that. It's a long tale and if I did that, I'd really go nuts on fixing and end up not posting at all. So I've left most intact, except when even I can't figure out what the characters were saying… grin.

Also, I suspect it's important to mention that this really not a kid fic, even though Kolopac plays a large part. It''s about family and chance and hope for the future.

Sam938

**Sandcastles: Part Two**

Same disclaimers as Part One.

**Section 1 (Chapter 7)**

The attack was quick, deadly, and unexpected. Two ships had suddenly appeared and started firing. Janeway's hails had been ignored. She'd finally destroyed the enemy. But even after analyzing the debris, they had no idea who had attacked.

The results of the ambush were grim. Two crewmembers were dead. Another 15 had been hurt seriously enough that they'd been in sickbay for a week. And Voyager needed extensive repairs.

Consequently, Janeway and Chakotay were working 18 hour days. Most of the crew were working double rotations. They had three objectives; get the warp engines back online, repair and enhance security so they could sustain another attack, and survive while doing the other two. None of them was going to be easy.

Janeway spent most of her time working on the first objective along with the Engineering team. The ship was barely managing impulse power. They'd blown all the dilithium in the attack, and yet they had to find a way to get warp online. Without it, given their distance from any known source of supplies or livable worlds, they'd die before they reached an oasis. If Janeway and B'Elanna couldn't find a solution, they weren't going to survive.

The good news was that they still had warp capacity on one of the shuttles. It was their last backup. That should have worried Chakotay. It didn't. What did worry him was that so far there was nowhere to send the shuttle. The long range probes they'd sent out to look for supplies had come back with nothing.

Tuvok was pushing his Security team hard to complete the second objective. Shields were down and phasers were offline. All they had left were the photon torpedoes, and three of those were damaged. Tuvok had identified some unusual power surges prior to the last attack. He was working on a way to use the data to give them some warning next time, if there was a next time. In addition, the Vulcan took over Command when Janeway or he weren't on the Bridge and during most of their sleeping hours.

Chakotay was managing the rest. That included working with systems, conn, ops and environmental to get them back online. As XO, he also approved the eternal changes in personnel rotations, made sure communication was flowing between departments given that ops was still offline, and compiled lists of materials they couldn't replicate. He spent hours in the Stellar Cartography database, looking for a possible source for raw materials and for their attacker's origin.

At least he wasn't worried about Kolopac. Ironically, the crisis had completely secured the child's place on Voyager. Kolopac had emerged out of the chaos to be one of the ship's top priorities. Personal differences had been left aside. The unspoken agreement was that the child's care was a shipwide project during the crisis. Voyager's crew had made the decision on how to care for Kolopac with practical expediency. Chakotay hadn't been consulted, just provided with the end results of the collaboration. Each day, a new department was responsible. Someone had even set up a "Kolopac list" to ensure communication.

At first, he thought it all just proved that children didn't belong on starships. The crew clearly didn't want a distracted Captain and XO. He tried to ignore most of it, but the proverbial last straw was when the contents of interdepartmental memos started showing up interspersed with child care comments. As XO, and the child's father, he'd been horrified to see that his personal situation was affecting ship business.

It took B'Elanna to set him straight. He still remembered her exact words when he'd called her on the carpet for one of her memos.

"Kahless on crutches, Chakotay, with everything else falling apart, the fact that Kolopac's thriving is the only good news there is. If you want a mutiny, try to take that away. Just shut up and leave it alone. Besides, what I said was important. Kolopac actually sat up by himself. He's two months early for that. Ops needed to know. Even for a half Cardassian child - Kahless, I'm sorry."

"Stow it, Lieutenant. I don't need your insights on genetics. Neither does Kolopac."

B'Elanna looked at him consideringly. "I'm not sorry that I said he was part Cardassian. He is. And they're *early* in their development. But he's even early for them. I was apologizing because I just realized you found out about it through the memo. Of course, maybe you don't care. Who knows?" She turned away.

After that, he left the memos alone. His thoughts about his son were his own, and he'd be damned if anyone else was going to psychoanalyze that.

Janeway had surprised him. He knew she cared about the child, but now that there was a serious crisis, he'd expected that she'd focus entirely on the problems at hand. But through the grapevine, he heard that she was following through. She checked on the child throughout the day and often took Kolopac during what used to be her part of the "schedule." Of course, she worked throughout. None of it made any sense, but he didn't have the heart to refuse her, and he didn't have the time to do anything about it anyway. If being with the child gave her some grounding it might help them all survive, Kolopac included.

But all of it was just speculation. He hadn't had time to talk to Janeway about anything. Even the updates on ship repairs were being done via memos. He only saw his son when he had time to sleep. He missed them both. The dinners, Sandrines, the gym, and his conversations with Janeway about anything and everything seemed like a lifetime ago. He felt tired and disconnected. Their interactions were increasingly important to him now that they were gone. More than anything, he missed the quiet, the peace he felt when the three of them were alone.

After a particularly grueling day and half a night, with few solutions and numerous problems identified, he walked into his quarter to rest.

His quarters were a disaster. Janeway was ensconced at his workstation. Nearly the entire Alpha command team had taken up residence in his living area along with her. Tuvok was looking over her shoulder, holding Kolopac. Kim and Torres had rigged up another workstation, and were deep in conversation. It was crazy, but he didn't care. He was glad to see her.

"Captain?"

She looked up. "Hello, Commander. Do you have a report from Stellar?"

He smiled. It was typical of Janeway to make the unorthodox seem normal. He decided to play too. "There's good and bad. What do you want first?"

"Bad. Better to get it over fast."

"Yes, ma'am."

She bristled, and then smiled.

He got to the point. "The data from the long range probe indicates the Helatrix system's a bust for dilithum."

She sighed. "No dilithium... well, we didn't expect it. Better get to the good part."

"The system does have the titranium that Security needs to get shields and phasers back online. There were also readings of the uranium we need for the Environmental backups. I recommend we send an away team to mine."

He continued. "The really good news is that Ginn thinks has a lead on a system which may have habitable planets. It's two months from here; ten days there and back with the warp on the shuttle. There are no signs of the unknown's signatures in that area of space. It's a possibility. There may be food, a place where we can repair safely, and more raw materials. I've authorized a long range probe to see what's there."

She looked hopeful, and then grimaced. "We better take it a day at a time. Let's see what the probe brings back. In the meantime, there's still the Heliatrix system. Recommendations on the Away Team?"

"Tuvok should lead. I recommend you authorize Carey, Hendrickson, Stanhope, Maloney, and Alire to go as well."

Janeway turned and looked at Tuvok, silently asking for confirmation.

"I agree, Captain."

"Fine. Let's get on it at 0900 tomorrow." She looked down and starting working again.

Chakotay watched her, amused. He'd fallen for her "professional concern and intercession" routine when she'd taken over his quarters the last time because of her personal feelings about Kolopac. He wasn't going to let her get away with it again, Alpha Command team or not. " Captain, why are you here?"

She looked up, annoyed that he'd called her bluff, and then smiled. "Kolopac doesn't like the Ready Room. He needs comfortable surroundings. Your quarter's terminal's command class so it's just as convenient to work here."

"I see. Well, I'd like to get cleaned up, if that's possible, as I see that you have Kolopac secure." He smiled at the sight of his son in Tuvok's arms. "Permission to be dismissed."

"Granted." She turned back to work, smiling. Kim and Torres pretended to ignore the entire interaction, and Tuvok simply looked stoic, as usual.

He moved to his bedroom area and showered. When he returned, Kim, Torres, and Tuvok were gone and Janeway was in the process of closing down his station, holding Kolopac. He sat down on the couch, watching her carefully.

"Kathryn?"

"I'm nearly done. And it's your shift for Kolopac."

"Kathryn." He said it more firmly and she looked up.

"Do you intend to incorporate this change of the location of 'command central' into regular procedure?"

She turned away and looked out his viewscreen. "Yes. When I have Kolopac. It's easy enough. He needs to be in his own space. On other days, of course not. Even with the crew helping, he still needs to be with one of us consistently. I don't want to see a repeat of the original problem. Engineering's back together. It's the dilithium problem we need to solve now. That's theoretical. I can do that from any command class terminal."

He looked at the specs of the terminal Kim and Torres had jury-rigged. "I'll get them to set up a more powerful second station. This one's not going to work for me."

"Commander, I don't intend to intrude when you're here."

He interrupted. "Kathryn, it's all right to admit you missed the connection. I did as well." The comment was risky, but worth the chance.

She turned abruptly, ready to interrupt, but he stopped her. "Friendship is accepted in Starfleet protocol between commanding officers. It's even recommended. And cordiality is 'by the book'. In Reg 672, if I remember correctly. That's why they set up the connecting doors between Command quarters."

He changed the topic back to Kolopac, before she denied any connection between them. He knew if he pushed too hard, she'd back away completely. "Kolopac could use the attention from one of us, and you're right. This is his home. I'm rarely here, but when I am, I may need a terminal."

She turned away again. "I'll have Torres set it up."

"It's all right. I'll assign it to Engineering tomorrow. It's just part of procedure."

She handed him his son. "All right. Goodnight, Commander."

"Goodnight, Captain." She left, for the first time, though the connecting door to her quarters. And with that, he began to hope. He just couldn't help it.

**Section 2 (Chapter 8)**

Four days later, Tuvok's away team returned and they began the work of repairing Security and Environmental. Chakotay walked through the door to his quarters at midnight. He'd just finished reviewing plans for the Environmental refitting. He was re-running the procedure again through his mind, and so was startled when he realized there was someone in the room.

Janeway was at his terminal, working alone. As usual, there was a barricade of coffee cups around her. He was surprised to see her. Even with the resolution of their last discussion, she hadn't used his quarters again. He decided it was best to treat her presence casually. "Hello, Captain."

"Hmummfh."

"Where's Kolopac?"

She looked up, tired but excited. " Chakotay, I think I might have a lead on the problem with the dilithium. T'Pac proved theoretically that there were significant parallels in composition between dilithium and other compounds. The compounds could theoretically be recombined to simulate dilithium's structure. Amazingly obscure reference, only a paragraph or two, but it came to me last night, when I was asleep. I just found it in a paper from the Vulcan Academy. The theory's never been tested though - but it might give us-"

She looked down again and then up at him. "Sorry. Kolopac's asleep. Wildman had him most of the evening. She dropped him off about an hour ago."

It was so unlike her usual attitude about Kolopac that he knew she was on to something important. "Show me what you've found."

"Chakotay, it really might work. But we have to find deutoronium. The other alternatives won't work. They're too rare here. But deutoronium is possible. It's raw, minable, and we've seen it before in the Delta quadrant. It's critical to the solution. Look." She maneuvered the terminal so he could see it. He moved to stand behind her, bending down to better see the original reference and then her extrapolation.

He scanned the data quickly and looked at her notes. "Deutoronium? You plan to use deutoronium to replace the dilithium in the warp cope? It's impossible."

"No. Not replace. Simulate. And I think it *is* possible. Look again at T'Pac."

He looked. It was another "Janeway solution", seemingly impossible, a very high risk. But she was right; the theory was there. But it was just theory.

"Kathryn, you may be right. It could just work. But the problems of conversion are impossibly complex."

"I know. I've thought of that. But there's another piece of the puzzle you don't know. I imagine you've never read Karpekov's theory. In it, he proposes a method that takes transporter technology one step further, actually simulating compounds that have never been possible to replicate. But the variances have to be precisely calculated for it to work. That's where T'Pac fits in for us. Karpekov's work was all *still* theory when we left the Alpha Quadrant, but it showed extreme promise. He won the Stein Prize, posthumously, for it the year before we were transported here. There, I've got it up now. Take a look."

He couldn't follow all of the science, but he understood the basic premise. It was possible. In a moment of brilliance, she'd put together two impossible, experimental connections that just might get them out of this mess.

He thought about the implications. "We'd need to convert the area outside Engineering for processing and to absorb the radiation. Tough, especially under current conditions, but not impossible."

"Yes, that's what I thought. Do you-"

"Has B'Elanna seen it?"

"No. I didn't want to let her know until I thought there might be a possibility. I just found it. Chakotay, do you think -?"

"Yes. It's brilliant, Kathryn. Risky, but brilliant. Wait." He moved his arm around her in order to get to the terminal, pulling up the data from Stellar that he'd intended to analyze the next day. "Damn."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. It's the report we just got back from the long-range probe from Ginn's planet. No deutoronium readings. There was none in the Heliatrix system either."

"Any chance the readings were wrong?" He just looked at her. She grimaced. "No, of course not. Then that's it. I'll have to find something else."

She suddenly looked incredibly tired.

He hated to see her look so resigned. He put his hand on her shoulder and crouched down so his eyes were at the level of hers, trying to communicate his sympathy.

Then it came to him. "Stan."

"What?" She looked at him, surprised.

"Stanislowsky. Harv Stanislowsky. Wait." He turned toward the terminal, pulling up the data Stellar had just given him. "Yes."

"Chakotay, what?"

"Deutoronium. It used to be a standard requirement to maintain Environmental twenty years ago. Stan was second engineer, we were out on the Belt, and we needed it desperately. We had systems down from a Romulan skirmish. It's a long story. Anyway, we finally found deutoronium on Kallab II, and so never pursued his idea. But I remember Stan had a plan to use - and - to *replicate* deutoronium. The bonds aren't immutable in those compounds. They can be used for replication under controlled conditions."

"Combine - and -? It might be possible. But we're going to need kilos of the stuff to pull this off. Are they on Heliatrix or Ginn's planet?"

He rechecked the data from the report he'd just logged. "Looks like they're on Ginn's planet." He smiled.

"Triple risk. Triple trouble. Combine - and - to replicate deutoronium. Use Karpekov's theory to convert *that* to simulate dilithium, and then use T'Pac to adjust the variances. It all might fall apart, but there's a chance. Gods..."

Her hand gotten in the way of his while they both tried to pull up data. She looked up suddenly, her expression unreadable. He realized that he was surrounding her, one hand on her shoulder, the other over hers on the terminal. She looked away, but he stayed where he was, and waited to see what she'd do.

She finally commented, "Stanislowsky's famous for the Ashton projections. And he's about as Fleet as it gets. How did you know him?"

He couldn't help smiling, diverted. "Stan's famous? I always thought he had it in him, but he was eccentric even when we were in the Academy."

When he considered the implications of her question, he stopped reminiscing and looked at her somewhat cynically. " I *did* spend 20 years in Starfleet, Captain. Stan was the same year as I was at the Academy. He got me through Petrow's class on astro. We served as ensigns together on the Einstein too. We spent a lot of time together, off shift and on back then."

He thought back to another place, another time. "We were close. I'm glad he made it. I lost track of him after the Einstein. You know how it is. And I wasn't in his scientific circles enough to follow his path. Then, I joined the Maquis and - well, lost track of a lot of people. I'm just glad to hear about Stan. He deserves the credit. He's decent man, and was a good friend."

She turned her hand to clasp his. "He'd still be, Commander. He was on the Carson with me ten years ago. He never struck me as a man who made superficial judgments about anything. He's teaching at the Academy now, or at least he was. He wanted to follow up his ideas on the Ashton projections."

He smiled and grasped her hand. "Someday, you're going to have to explain to me just what the Ashton projections are. I lost touch with a lot of the science, even as superficial as I knew it, in the Maquis."

She laughed. "That's a promise. But I guarantee pain in the process. It's a tough theoretical problem to wade through."

She stopped, still not moving, still not refusing the physical connection they had. " Can you remember anything about how he planned the replication?"

"No. I remember more of the politics than the science. Stan was second engineer under Iso Haben. I don't know if you've ever met her. From Mars. Controlling, pedantic, uninspired; at least that's what it seemed like at the time. Putting Stan under Haben was a serious mistake on the XO's part. She'd called the choice. I remember that Stan was so annoyed over the way they treated his idea that he swore he was going to send the data into-"

"Haben? You're telling me they put Stanislowsky under Haben? That's -"

He released her hand and stood up, excited. "Kathryn, listen to me. He SWORE he was going to publish his idea after the Einstein. There was a messy political blow up, ugly. They wouldn't listen to him and he was right scientifically. He said he was going to publish it, 'arrogant XOs and incompetent Engineering chiefs be damned'. He ranted on for weeks. It's why I remember the incident. Maybe his work's in the database, if he's that well known now."

"There's a chance. I can try to track it."

"Let me do that. The data's technical, but I know his voice and what I'd be looking for in the papers. It'll give you a chance to work on the projections you've started on the rest of it."

"All right. I'll move to my quarters so you can get started here."

"Why don't you stay? You've got the station already set up. There's no reason to move. It's as good a time as any to test B'Elanna's configuration on the twin."

"Let's do it, then." She turned back to the terminal, her mind already at work on the conversion theory.

Somehow, both of his hands had moved to her shoulders. He hadn't noticed. He didn't even think she was aware of it. It was inappropriate to even think about the implications now. He didn't want to distract her.

He sat down at the other station and then stopped, suddenly tired. "When's the last time you ate anything, Captain?"

She ignored him.

"I thought so. I'm going to replicate dinner for you, and then check on Kolopac and get cleaned up. I'll be back in a while."

She looked up. "Chakotay, I don't need - Oh, all right."

"Thank you." When he returned, he was relieved to see she'd eaten. He sat down at the other station and began to work. Two hours later he looked up.

"Coffee?"

"Muggghf."

He took that to be a yes, and programmed two cups for them. It was an outrageous use of rations, given their current situation. Of course, dinner had been equally outrageous, but with Environmental and Security nearly back online, he decided they could afford it.

He gave her the coffee, which she accepted without looking up at him. He sat down on the arm of her chair, looking at the projections she'd set up.

"Anything?"

She looked up and then back at the terminal. "Maybe. The conversion problem's pretty grim."

She paused, and said more to herself than to him, "Damn Karpekov and all theoreticians in general. They all need a decent course in practical engineering, or maybe they should be sent off into the Delta quadrant for three years. Wouldn't see nearly the messiness then."

She pulled up a number of calculations he couldn't even pretend to understand.

"*Look* at this... three lines of calculation - missing. It's completely irresponsible. It's taken me the last two hours to put it back together, and even now I'm not sure it's right..."

She continued to stare at the terminal, lost in thought. He realized she'd gotten her teeth into the problem, so he left her alone to grumble.

He went back to his terminal to try to find Stan's work. He wished the man hadn't been so prolific. But then, Stan always did like to talk. He found the answer an hour later in a reference from 15 years after the Einstein. It was in a paper that seemed to have a totally unrelated premise. The research had been completed by one of Stan's students at the Academy.

It was there. There was a way to replicate deutoronium. He looked up, excited.

"Kathryn?"

She was asleep. It was nearly four in the morning; they were both on duty in three more hours. She'd been up nearly 20 hours, and working nonstop for weeks. He didn't have the heart to wake her, so he picked her up, took her into his sleeping quarters, removed her boots and threw a blanket over her. She slept though it all.

He should have taken her to her own quarters, but that somehow seemed like an intrusion.

He checked on Kolopac, asleep in his crib next to the bed, and then went back into his living area. He pulled up the duty rosters, and rescheduled the meetings she had for early morning. She still wouldn't get nearly enough sleep, but if he pushed it further, she might get really angry. She was going to be unhappy with him as it was.

Then he went back to work. If he could get Stan's specs set up, it might save her some time the next day. He was awake, somehow.

He could watch over them both and get this done.

At 06:30 he took Kolopac to Environmental, and then went to the gym to shower and change. He made it through a meeting with Stellar, checked in at Engineering, and then ran a small experiment.

He went back to his quarters and replicated some real coffee. He was going to need a bribe to make it though the next half-hour unscathed.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and put the cup in front of her nose. It woke her almost instantly. She sat bolt upright, nearly knocking the coffee out of his hands.

"Good morning. I bring gifts." He handed her the coffee before she could think to do anything else except take it.

"Chakotay, what ..? I fell asleep?"

"Yep. Around 0400. It's around 0900 now."

"Nine? I had a meeting with Torres at 0800." She started to get up. He stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder, and then released her. She fell back against the headboard.

"Nope."

"Nope? What do you mean - nope? I'm late."

"Your appointment's been changed to 10:30. XO's prerogative. B'Elanna needed the rest."

"Let me get this straight. You rescheduled my appointment without consulting me." The expression in her eyes could melt dilithium.

He smiled. "Negative. I rescheduled *B'Elanna's* appointment with the Captain based on my analysis of the Lieutenant's work schedule. The Captain was unavailable, but always approves such changes based on the XO's recommendation."

She eyed him cynically. "Kim? He was for 0900."

"You're scheduled to see him at 1130."

"I should bust you to Ensign." She sighed and shook her head. "Thank you. But if you ever-"

"I can't guarantee it won't happen again. It's the XO's prerogative to act on such issues. It's in the regs. "

He smiled. "Let it go, Captain. You needed the rest."

*He* needed to divert her mind. " I told you I was bringing gifts. The coffee's just one."

She just stared at him.

"Stan. I found the reference and a tried the replication on a small scale this morning. It worked. We now have deutoronium. Not much, of course. But it can be replicated."

"That's terrific, Chakotay. Now if -"

"There's more. I also took a look at the area outside Engineering. The conversion's going to be tricky there, but I think it is possible. And as for the rest, Stellar's reverifying the readings again right now, but it looks like Ginn's planet's definitely has what we need."

She sat up again, putting her elbows on her knees, staring at the coffee cup she held in both hands, thinking.

Then she looked up at him and smiled. "We can do it."

"We can try. But yes, that's the way it seems."

She suddenly realized where she was. "I need to get up. B'Elanna's appointment is in less than an hour. I must look like hell."

"Not to me, Captain."

He got up, let her chew on the comment for a moment, and then changed the topic. "Do you want a Department Heads meeting scheduled for this afternoon?"

"Yes. Thanks."

He left the room while it was still safe. Definitely progress.

**Section 3 ( Chapter 9)**

They sent the shuttle with Tuvok in command to Ginn's planet. The team was due back in three days. Once they returned with the necessary materials, they could replicate the rest of the deutoronium from it, and then start phase two if Janeway had it figured out. In the meantime, they needed to prepare the space in engineering for the conversion.

Janeway had relocated 'command central' into his quarters every evening.

There wasn't even a whisper of gossip about the move.

He thought, somewhat depressed, that there was no reason there should be.

The crew understood her attachment to Kolopac and the alpha science team was in and out of his quarters throughout. He was never there. Torres was getting more use out of the second terminal than he was. She and Janeway transmitted design plans back and forth throughout the evenings, detailing the conversion plan.

When he'd offered Janeway use of the space, he hadn't realized it was going to include the entire command crew every night. She'd turned the tables on him rather neatly, in a typical Janeway solution.

Every time he took one step forward, she took one back. The thought was depressing. He'd hoped, after the last night they'd spent working together, that he'd managed to break down a portion of the wall of protocol she'd built around her. He was clearly mistaken. He was getting pathetic. He was going to ridiculous lengths attempting to spend some time alone with her and his son, and none of it was working anyway.

He'd better get over it soon.

At least one of them was with Kolopac. He was stuck outside Engineering every night, along with Carey, using mostly brute force to modify the space so that they could install the design she finally decided on. He grimaced. At least he was good at demolishing something.

"Damn… She better be right about this... *Damn*."

"Sir?"

He started. He hadn't realized Carey was close enough to hear him.

"The panel won't budge, even with the gravity enhancers. What idiot came up with the -ugnhh . Finally."

Carey moved over to help him and together pushed the unit free.

They both dropped to the floor, out of breath.

"Stanislowsky."

"What?"

"An Academy guy by the name of Harv Stanislowsky came up with the specs for this area. The enhanced structural design is what makes it appropriate. This is the only place on the ship possible to try this. It's almost like he knew we'd need it."

Chakotay smiled. "He probably did. Stan was always one to predict the unpredictable. When we get back to the Alpha quadrant, I'm going to have to look him up and buy him dinner."

They sat there, resting. Carey finally broke the silence. "Commander, you must be really proud."

Chakotay looked back at Carey questioningly.

Carey replied. "I mean about Kolopac crawling today. I heard he was in Environmental, saw the Captain, and just started crawling toward her. It's amazing. He's really advanced for his age. Kids normally don't crawl for another three months."

Carey stopped when he saw Chakotay's expression. "I'm sorry, sir. I thought you'd heard."

Chakotay sighed. "No. I haven't managed to look at the list today." He felt the slight depression he'd had earlier settle in in full force.

He glanced at Carey and saw the man's discomfort. "It's all right. You said he crawled? I'm glad the Captain was there to see him."

"Yes, sir. Malony said it was only when he saw the Captain, and shaky at that, but he was definitely crawling."

Chakotay let his thoughts wander for a moment, imagining what it must have been like to see his son determinedly trying to reach Janeway. He smiled at the thought. He hoped Kolopac would have better luck than he'd had.

He looked over at Carey. The man seemed to have come to some sort of decision.

"Commander, permission to speak freely?"

"Go ahead, Carey."

"Sir, this is out of line. But I think I could handle overseeing the demolition alone for a few hours each night if you wanted to get away for a while."

"Carey, I -"

"Let me finish, Commander. I know the project's cross departmental, but I think Ops would be all right with my taking over on the demolition and the early construction occasionally. The crew knows what you're doing for the Captain. It's obvious how much she cares about your son."

Carey swallowed and continued. "But we all know how difficult it must be to have your quarters turned into another ready room. And with the Captain up there, you're always down here. I think I could oversee this for a while if you wanted to spend some time alone with Kolopac.

"And, well, if you need some place quiet to get away to you're welcome to use my quarters. Both Dalby and Hendrickson said I could bunk with either one of them if you needed the space."

He looked at Carey in surprise. "Thank you. It's a hell of an offer, and I appreciate it. I may take you up on it one of these days, especially if this project goes on as long as it looks like it's going to. " He felt some of his depression lift.

"Commander?" Carey paused, and then continued. "I've seen the calculations. I think the Captain is right. It will work."

"I know, Carey. Another 'Janeway solution'." He smiled. "Let's get back to it. With any luck we can finish demolition tonight."

He stumbled into his quarters at 01:00. They'd finished the demolition; now they needed the plans to start building. He looked around. Torres and Kim were at the second terminal again. Janeway was at his desk with Kolopac in her arms, talking quietly to three of the Engineering team. She looked at him measuringly when he entered.

"Commander, you look like hell."

"Thanks, Captain. The demolition's finished. Do you have the blueprints for the conversion chamber ready yet?"

"It can wait until tomorrow. Let's break it up for tonight." She looked around and the group began to shut down, clean up, and leave.

She handed him Kolopac. "Goodnight, Chakotay."

He put the child in his crib, showered, and threw on an old pair of loose pants. Kolopac woke up, and he took him into the living area. There were what seemed to be uncountable stacks of datapadds, all carefully organized, all over the room.

He was afraid to touch anything. He sat down on the floor, the only empty space available, holding his son. He put the child down, stroking his head, belly down. "All right Kolopac, how about a progress report."

The child turned over, and looked up at him, reaching for his hand.

"Yeah, I know I'm not the Captain, but give it a shot anyway."

The child ignored him, still grabbing his thumb and gurgling.

He smiled. "Pure Fleet attitude. Only brown-nosing with the CO. I suppose I should have expected it. No doubt you have your eye on early promotion, too." He turned the child over, trying again.

He jumped, nearly knocking Kolopac off balance, when connecting door opened and Janeway walked in. She looked startled when she saw him.

"Commander, I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep, and I left - -" She stopped suddenly, giving him an indecipherable look, staring.

He realized he was half-dressed. He set the child down, grabbed his shirt from the floor next to him and put it on. He pulled Kolopac back and put him in his lap, all the while trying not to look disconcerted.

Janeway walked over to him and sat down cross-legged on the floor next to him.

"Chakotay, I am sorry. I didn't realize how hard this must be for you."

"It's not. It's all right. He needs to be with one of us, and I'm better at demolition that I am at conversion theory." He tried to smile, but he was just too tired.

She looked at Kolopac, stroking his head. "What were the two of you doing?"

"I heard he started crawling today. I wanted to see it. I think he's too tired now."

Janeway was silent but finally commented, "You read it on the list, didn't you? I'm sorry. I should have told you."

"It doesn't matter. Actually, Carey told me about it this evening. I think he heard it from Malony."

"I see." He didn't like her expression. He looked back at his son.

"Give him to me."

He looked up. "What?"

"Chakotay, he needs somewhere to crawl to. Kolopac never does anything without a reason. Of course, he never tells anyone what it is. That's clearly genetic."

He handed her the child. She cuddled him and then set him down on the floor.

He watched as the child started scrambling towards him, and grabbed him when Kolopac reached out to him. "Hey, not bad, old man. You need to work on the knee action, though."

"Old man?"

"Well, he's aged at least a month since I last saw him awake."

Janeway moved next to him and stroked the child's cheek. "You really do care about him, don't you?"

"I - yes. Yes, I do. The time's been tight, lately though."

The conversation was getting uncomfortable. He got up with the child in his arms, and walked toward the couch. He looked hesitantly at the datapadds stacked on it.

"Can any of these be moved?"

She got up and moved the piles off the seat. " God, yes. They all can. I'm sorry. This will be over soon, one way or another. I swear I'll get out of your space when it is."

He sat down and looked away from her. "I don't care about the space, Kathryn. I'd just like some down time, some quiet, alone with the two of you."

She turned away from him, and he was afraid he'd said too much, admitted too much to her. "Look, forget I mentioned it. I'm just tired."

She sat down next to him, took the child, and then shifted closer into his side. "Friends, Commander?"

He looked down at her, put his feet up and his head against the back of the sofa. And then he pulled her head to his shoulder, put his arm around her, his hand on hers, holding Kolopac.

"Friends, Captain."

"I think something can be arranged then."

They sat there silently, sleeping for what was left of the evening. She finally got up to put Kolopac in his crib and get ready for the morning shift.

They settled into a pattern after that. Each evening, when he came in somewhere between midnight and one, she stopped the work and the group left. Then she came back, alone, and they'd talk; about Kolopac, or the day, or nothing, sometimes over a glass of wine. She usually left after an hour.

He treasured the time, and he thought she did too. It gave her a chance to relax from the day. He didn't miss the sleep in the slightest.

**Section 4 ( Chapter 10)**

Chakotay decided things were definitely looking up.

They had all the deutoronium replicated that they needed for the conversion.

Even better, Carey and he had just finished building the conversion chamber in Engineering according to Janeway and B'Elanna's specs. It would need some adjustments, but it was done, which meant no more endless nights in the lower decks.

Even better than that, his personal project was coming along nicely. He was spending more time with Kolopac and Janeway.

And to top it off, Janeway had acknowledged the friendship between them and hadn't rebuilt that part of the wall. Things were definitely on the upswing.

He walked into his quarters that night and knew immediately that something was very, very wrong.

There was complete silence.

The alpha science team looked like they were more than ready to bolt.

Janeway was hunkered down at his terminal, staring.

Even Tuvok looked concerned.

He started to report. "Captain, the combination chamber's completed. We can -"

She looked up. "- do nothing. You're going to have to wait until I'm ready. And I'm not, not yet. And *DON'T* ask me when."

It was worse than he thought. He needed to get the crew out of there so he could find out what was wrong. "Where's my son?"

Tuvok answered. "I put him into his crib at 2120, Commander."

"Then let's break this up for the night." The crew bolted out the door in less than a minute. Even Tuvok left, although the Vulcan did stop to look back at

him.

He just shook his head.

Janeway ignored him. He moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"What is it?"

"The holodeck simulations failed. We blew up the ship. It's not going to work. There's just no way."

"There's always a way."

"Then, damn it, *you* find it. I can't." She stopped and put her head in her hands. "I'm sorry. It not your fault I can't figure this out. It's not even *my* fault... except for the arrogance.

"I should have known better. Some of the best minds in the galaxy have been working on making Karpekov's theory a reality for god only knows how long now. Kassanov, Simms, Harrison, Fong... look at the list. I have for hours. There's no fix to this. It's going to blow us up."

She pulled up some calculations that were impossible for him to follow.

"Chakotay, I..."

"Quit looking at the list."

"What?"

"Quit looking at the list. Who cares if Kassanov or Simms couldn't answer it. I knew them both at the Academy. Kassanov was a technician, not an academician. He was successful with the timewarp problem, but his research was just all follow-through. Simms was a jerk, out for himself, willing to use anyone and anything and take the credit. It's not surprising that he'd try to solve it, just to see if he could get some fame, and then drop it like a hot phaser when it looked like it might *really* be work.

"My guess is he only put part of his lab on it for about half a year and it was a small grant from APSF, not enough to be noticeable, at first."

"You're right." She looked up, astonished. "How did you know ?"

"I met the man once. And Stan and another friend, George Yoshira, had some run-ins with him at the Academy."

"That doesn't explain Harrison and Fong."

"Sorry -I never met Harrison or Fong. I don't even know who they are. But it doesn't matter. Quit looking at the list... *now* Captain."

He reached over and closed the file she had open, and then put his hands back on her shoulders and began to rotate the disks in her neck with his thumbs. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

"Maybe you're right about that. But it doesn't matter. I still can't solve it. It was arrogant to think I could. There's just too much conflicting data."

"Kathryn, you will find a way out of it. It may not be now, or it may not be this month. We can sit here for six months, a year, as long as it takes. Or we can spend the time moving towards Ginn's planet, or whatever."

"You seem to be forgetting that we got into this mess because of some damned unknowns who have a penchant for destroying anyone they happen to meet."

"I haven't forgotten. But Tuvok's got Weapons up and has modified the systems in a way that should give us warning this time. And we know what to expect. Operations and Environmental are back on line and we can always get more supplies from the Heliatrix system or Ginn's planet.

"We can't do it forever, it's true. But there's a livable world within reach that has food and supplies. The last month's been worth it. We'll make it one way or the other. And you will find the answer. Give yourself time. I've seen you work and you're in with the best. If you can't solve it, it won't be solved and Karpekov was just lying to himself and everyone else."

"I hope you're right- not about Karpekov, but the rest. But it just doesn't seem possible. Even B'Elanna's given up."

"B'Elanna's a terrific engineer, but she's not a theoretician."

"Neither am I. Last time I looked I was a Starfleet captain."

"Semantics."

She looked up and smiled.

He pushed it further. "To be precise, you're an exhausted, overworked Starfleet *and* Maquis captain in the Delta quadrant who happens to moonlight as a theoretician."

She bristled. "Commander..."

He smiled at her. "Better?"

She sighed. "Yes. Every time I decide I really *should* bust you to ensign you come up with a way to get around it. But keep in mind it's the neck rub, not the advice, that got you out of it tonight."

She stood up. "I'd better get going."

He stood over her, blocking her exit from the workstation. "Oh no."

"Now what?"

"If I let you out of here you're going to go find another terminal and brood. You need to rest, Kathryn. The crew can't take another night of this. You can't either."

She started to protest, but he stopped her. He grabbed her forearms and turned her to him. "No. No options. XO's prerogative- reg 683.

"Go take a shower. You won't wake Kolopac, he sleeps through anything."

She started to argue.

"No, Captain, I swear I'll use it. 683. Do you want me to quote it verbatim? 'In the event-'."

She pulled away. "Stop." She swallowed and he watched her anger recede. "I know you're right. It doesn't mean I have to like it."

He smiled, relieved that she'd agreed. "Thank the universe for small favors. Now, on another point, did you have dinner?"

"I think so."

"Well, at least that's some progress. Go get cleaned up." He didn't believe her about the dinner. She moved into his sleeping quarters, and he could hear the sonic shower start. He pulled up her measurements and replicated some causal and what he hoped were comfortable clothes. He put them on the bed, replacing her uniform. It was an outrageous use of rations, *again*, but he was getting used to that. And he didn't want to invade her quarters without permission.

He checked the logs, then with Neelix, and finally Tuvok, and verified that she'd forgotten to eat dinner. He replicated that, too. He was ready when she reappeared. "Liar."

"*What -?*"

"Dinner. Eat. Don't argue. It's in the regs." He thanked the gods again for the regs. Ironic. But any tool was useful, if you learned how to apply it. They'd got him though a lot of difficult moments lately. He was grateful.

She looked ready to kill him again. "Chakotay, I don't need 'a dictator, no matter how benevolent, running my life'."

"Prove it and eat." He stared her down. "Kathryn, you helped me once. Let me return the favor."

"Damn." The tension was living, ethereal between them for a moment, and then she sighed and sat down. "Some day..."

"Right." He watched her silently while she ate, letting her brood. After, she picked up the glass of wine and began to pace.

"It's just impossible. The calculations are all wrong."

"Maybe they are." She turned and looked at him, her confusion obvious. He clarified his thought. "Maybe parts of Karpekov's calculations are wrong."

She refused the idea. "Not possible. I rechecked it - everyone's rechecked it. The results are in the literature- it's been analyzed to eternity and back again."

"All right, then let it go for tonight." She ignored him and kept pacing.

"Kathryn, stop. It's nearly 02:00. Let it go." When she turned away again, he got up from the couch and grabbed her arms, forcing her to look at him.

"Please. Come sit down. You need to relax."

She was angry at him again. He hoped the third time was charmed, because otherwise she was literally going to kill him for what he was about to do.

He decided to risk it. He suspected she wouldn't want to have to explain why she'd decked her XO. He picked her up before she could break away from him, and dumped them both on the couch.

She stared at him, her expression unreadable, her position that of practically laying on his chest. When she started to move away, he grabbed both of her wrists in his hands and kept them near his shoulders. He'd never used his strength on her before. It was extremely dangerous. Her legs moved out across the sofa, her upper body thrown across his.

"If you don't let go of me, I'm going to break every bone in your wrist, and the hell with the gossip."

He held onto her, angry himself. "You're right about that, Captain. The hell with the gossip. If Voyager's got a strung out Captain that can't think rationally, then they might as well learn about it now."

He let her free. "Go ahead. Lose it. Rant away, brood, throw a tantrum. Forget to sleep. Forget to eat. Forget the fact that if this doesn't work, Voyager's going to need an alternative, and that can only be the Captain's choice."

She turned away, her back against the couch, her knees up with her arms wrapped around them, staring into space. The silence went on for what seemed to him to be forever.

She finally broke it. "I don't throw tantrums."

"Uhuh..."

She sighed. "I really ought to just murder you and get it over with."

He smiled. "The feeling's mutual."

She shifted and finally commented, "I suppose I ought to thank you, but I'd rather just bust you to Ensign."

He laughed. "It wouldn't matter. I was just as much of a pain in the ass when I was an Ensign."

"That doesn't surprise me in the slightest." She sighed. "You're right, of course. I have to find another alternative and let this go, but ... Chakotay, we were so close."

"Would you please look at me?" She finally turned her head to look at him, her chin resting on her knees.

He took her hands in his. "It's going to work out, Kathryn. It's not surprising you're exhausted. You've been running on adrenaline for weeks now. We all have. The experiment's not over. It's just a set back. Give it time. You'll work it out, or we'll find something else.

"Here. Turn around."

She turned and he started rubbing her shoulders again.

He smiled. "How do you manage this? I just got half of these kinks worked out and they're back again."

"I had help."

He pulled her back into his shoulder, and sat back, resting. When she moved, he put his arm around her. "Just relax, Kathryn. It's all right. After this latest fiasco, I suspect we both need the reassurance and the connection.

"Otherwise, I'm going to get the Doc to authorize two hours in the gym to get rid of some of this frustration. At this point, I suspect the workout would probably kill us both. It'll save the Delta quadrant some trouble."

He put his left hand on her head, his right around her waist, keeping her with him. "Just relax. Try to get some sleep It's all right." He tried to keep the desire out of his voice, but he knew it was hopeless.

"Chakotay, it's not. And it's another issue we're going to have to deal with soon."

"It can wait. The universe knows we're both too tired to do anything about it anyway."

He looked down at her. "Kathryn, it's *not* a command problem. I can control myself. So can you. We can work out whatever is comfortable later. But now, you need to rest. And you're not going to otherwise. If you leave, you're going to go work through the night, and nothing will come of it. The gods only know how you come up with them, but I know you have to be focused and awake for Janeway solutions."

"For what?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. The point is you need the sleep, and you won't sleep unless you're here."

She shifted again, and he tried one last time. "Tell me I'm wrong and I'll let you leave."

"Damn." She was clearly annoyed and yet her expression was somewhat sheepish.

He thought she'd never looked more beautiful. He pushed the thought away.

He pulled her back to him again and this time she didn't resist. He put his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. "I'll log it that you busted me to Ensign tomorrow. It might give me a few extra hours of sleep."

"Good idea." He felt her finally relax and then fall asleep with her head on his chest. He held her, finally falling asleep himself in the early hours of the morning.

jcjcjcjc

She woke up quickly, practically pounding his chest. "That's it."

"What?" He held onto her, and stopped her from getting up. He'd somehow managed to maneuver them lengthwise onto the couch. She was draped over him. "*What *? Tell me."

"You're right. Karpekov - no not Karpekov - he was dead then. Well, we were all wrong."

"Kathryn?"

"Karpekov. Remember the first night? There were three lines of calculations I had to extrapolate. They weren't in the paper. He was dead before he won the Stein Prize, so the sloppiness is forgivable - in him, but everyone's *assumed* the direction of those calculations until now."

"Chakotay, let me up." He released her and she moved immediately toward the terminal.

He replicated them both some coffee, and calculated groggily whether either one of them had any replicator rations left given the recent inroads. He decided he was in serious trouble, at least in that respect.

He quit worrying about it and enjoyed watching her work. He'd never seen her look so uncaptainly, with her hair down around shoulders in disarray from his hands the night before.

But the intensely focused enthusiasm of her expression was a sight he'd remember all his life.

At 06:00, he started what was getting to be a routine. He rearranged her schedule again, this time clearing the entire day, then took a shower and woke up Kolopac. Breakthrough or not, his son needed to be fed.

"Kathryn."

"Chakotay, I've got it. "

"I know." He pulled her up from the terminal into his arms, and kissed her on the forehead.

"Congratulations."

She smiled up at him. "Thanks. We *can* do this - it's-"

"It's terrific, Kathryn. You're -" He stopped, released her casually and turned. "I've got to take care of Kolopac now, but I've freed your schedule for the day so you can continue. Is that going to work for you?"

"I- yes. Thanks. But I shouldn't be-"

"It's *all right*, Kathryn. Stay and think. There's enough replicator rations for "real" coffee, at least for today. Enjoy while you can."

He left, shaken. It'd almost slipped out, how he felt, as casually as the start of a day, or as hopeful a beginning. He knew better than to burden her with his feelings, now or later. She didn't want to know, and he was more than grateful for what he had.

Section 5 ( Chapter 11)

Janeway called a Department Heads meeting for 11:00. The mood was subdued. Chakotay wasn't surprised, given the previous night's tension. As she outlined her breakthrough, Kim, Torres and Tuvok came to life, first with questions and then with outright skepticism from B'Elanna.

"B'Elanna, it *will* work. Look at it again. The problem all along has been the extrapolation of the three missing lines of calculations from Karpekov. Most of the scientific community has accepted Simm's interpretation of the formula. I even came up with the same thing on the first run through. It wasn't until the Commander mentioned -"

B'Elanna looked at the readout, scowling. "Captain, the Commander can't see his way out of a Cardassian slip rod when it comes to this sort of thing. "She stopped suddenly. "Uhhh, sorry, Chakotay."

He just shrugged and smiled.

Janeway smiled as well. "Of course he can't. But he mentioned that Simm's interpretations have always been superficial. That's what made me think to recheck the extrapolations. Anyway, if we change these factors-"

Torres looked at the changes again. Finally, she exploded. "Captain, I think you're right. If the third factor's changed..."

"Exactly. Well, at least I don't think we'll blow up the ship if we try it. B'Elanna, I'd like you to run with the analysis today and set up a simulation on the holodeck."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"Dismissed."

B'Elanna caught him on the way out of the conference room after everyone had left. "What'd you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Captain. When we left last night she was exhausted and as strung out as I've ever seen her. Then she shows up less than twelve hours later with a solution that'd get her the Stein Prize in the Alpha Quadrant, completely rested and cheerful. What happened?"

"She told you. I just mentioned that Simms had a superficial view in most of his science."

"All right, Chakotay - rather - *Commander*. * Don't * tell me. It's none of my business anyway. But keep it up. It's good for you both."

He watched her as she turned and left. "I'm working on it."

The simulation worked. Later that day Janeway looked around the table at the Alpha command team watching the readouts from the holodeck in the conference room. "Tonight. We'll try the real thing at 1600."

Chakotay interrupted. "Captain, I'd recommend against it."

She looked up, startled. Everyone was staring at him.

" I meant the timing of the test. I'd recommend you wait until 0900 tomorrow. The Alpha team will be just coming on duty, rather than going off, and it will give the rest of the crew time to learn about the results of the holodeck simulation. They've been working nonstop for almost two months. I think most would want to be there for the trial."

"Recommendation noted and accepted, Commander. Any other comments?" She looked around. "All right, then, we'll run it at 0900 tomorrow. Dismissed."

"Commander, if you could stay a moment." Janeway waited until rest of the team had left. "All right, what's this about? The Alpha crew's still not off duty for another hour and a ship-wide announcement would have taken care of the rest."

"Strategy. The crew's been working on this project nonstop for two months now. An evening of down-time, a chance to recheck a fitting, or think through a tough spot one last time, will boost confidence and might make all the difference."

"I see. Well, perhaps you're right. I have to admit I'd like to look at the -"

"Nope."

"What do you mean - 'nope'. " This is the second time you've pulled that."

"Henry IV."

She looked at him in disgust and then started to laugh. "Commander, you've lost your mind. First one of your 'nopes' and *now* you're citing some English king from a thousand years ago."

"Actually, I was thinking of Shakespeare. You know, eve before battle. Calm before the storm. A lot of kingly, or in this case, queenly, trotting around, looking confident, thoughtful and assured. I'd recommend a stint in the gym, then dinner in the mess, followed by a stop in at Sandrines, and lastly, a walk around the ship. It'd help if you ran the table in Sandrines a few times. Easy enough. That should do it."

"Chakotay..."

"Captain, I am serious about this. They need to see you trust them. You've been holed up with the theory for so long, they may not be sure. And more importantly, they need to know it will be all right if it fails. It's a little thing, but may go a long way and we can afford the time."

She was silent, and then said, ironically, "I *did* captain a starship for nearly five years before you showed up, Commander. I'm perfectly capable of seeing to crew morale on my own."

He risked a joke. "But now you do it with such finesse, Captain."

She rolled her eyes. "Kahless help me. It's bad enough the man's Maquis, but I had to get an XO who'd taken the course from Harrison. When we get back, I'm going to start a campaign to ban him from teaching."

He commented, "Anything you say, Captain."

She looked at him, cynically. "Like hell, Commander."

He smiled and stood up. "Shall we pick up Kolopac and see about scheduling the gym?"

Janeway stood as well and motioned toward the door. "After you. But I think we should run the akido routine."

"I'm always sore for a week after that."

"Exactly."

Chakotay sighed as they left the conference room together. He hoped his right shoulder could take another "Janeway solution".

He left Janeway in Sandrine's getting ready to tour the ship and went back to his quarters with Kolopac. He changed into loose-fitting pants, barefoot and without a shirt. He took Kolopac into the living room and looked out the viewscreen, thinking. He was tempted to go down to Engineering but knew better than to give into it. Carey would be worried that he didn't trust him, even after all they'd been through. And B'Elanna was there. She and Carey were probably working non-stop through the night, rechecking the entire configuration. They didn't need him in the way.

He grimaced as Kolopac shifted around and began to cry. He'd strained his right shoulder again. He should go down to Sick Bay, but he didn't want Janeway to know that he'd done it. She'd feel guilty about it, and it was unimportant. He tried to quiet his son by walking around the room and talking softly to him.

He was surprised when he heard the connecting door open. He'd been relieved throughout the day that Janeway had been comfortable enough to engage in casual joking with him. After the events of the night before, he'd expected her to retreat behind the wall of protocol, to rebuild some of the parts that had shattered. He was even more relieved that she had come to see him tonight. He hadn't expected it. It seemed too much to hope that she wouldn't back away in some manner. Perhaps that was what she'd come to discuss. He looked at her carefully. She was clearly tired and subdued.

"Captain? How was the tour?"

"Fine, Chakotay. Everything's ready. Of course, B'Elanna and Carey are planning an all nighter to recheck the chamber." She walked over to where he was standing. "I heard Kolopac crying. Here, give him to me." She took the child and he quieted immediately.

Chakotay smiled at the sight of the two of them, diverted for a moment. "You're going to have to show me how you do that. I've been down in Engineering too much lately."

She turned away to look out at the stars now that the child had settled down in her arms. "Not your fault. I'm sorry. It'll all be over with tomorrow."

He didn't like the implications of the comment. "We'll know the results of the experiment tomorrow. But nothing else has to change, except what we want to."

She ignored him. He wasn't sure if she had even heard him.

"Kathryn, what's wrong?"

He could see how tired she was by the way she stroked her cheek against Kolopac's. "Nothing's wrong. It's just that they're all so excited. I walked the ship, and it's everywhere. The anticipation, the expectation is everywhere, in them all. I felt it in every department, on every level."

"And-" he paused, prompting her.

"What if it fails?"

"We keep trying."

She looked back at him pensively. " You were right last night. I ought to have alternatives ready, but right now I can't think of any. I have the responsibility. I ought to have a backup."

He tried to reassure her. "No, you don't. At least not tonight. You have to trust yourself and them. This will work, Kathryn. There's no reason to think it won't and every reason to believe it will."

He stood behind her and pulled her up against him, letting her lean her weight into him, encircling her with his arms. "Let it-

She sighed. "I know, 'Let it go for now.'"

"Yes."

She turned her cheek into his bare chest, started to close her eyes, and then suddenly jerked her head away. "This has got to stop."

He tried to stroke her hair. "We can talk about it as much as you want. We'll work it out."

She pulled out of his arms and stepped away from him. "There shouldn't be anything *to* work out. I've got a ship to see to. This is-"

"-not dangerous. I swear it, Kathryn. Trust yourself. Trust me. You won't let anything happen that you feel might jeopardize your concentration."

"Chakotay -"

"It's all right, Kathryn. Really. Come sit down." He grabbed her hand and maneuvered her to the couch, then replicated some tea. "Here."

She shook her head, but accepted the tea, then put it down on the table next to her, cuddling Kolopac, who was laying on her lap. She put her head down to the child's stomach and chest, tickling him. Kolopac grabbed her hair in his fists, and it came down, disheveled. She smiled at him, running her cheek over his. "I know he's insane, Kolopac, but I promise to keep you from any serious damage... don't worry..." She smiled at the child, who was still playing with her hair, and cuddled him.

Chakotay sat down and watched them. His son's dark hair and complexion was in complete contrast to Janeway's lighter coloring, but the smiles were equally bright. Kolopac put his fist in her mouth, and she began laughing. He suspected she'd forgotten he was even there. He was delighted to see some of the worry leave her face. He felt peace settle over him lightly as he watched her obvious enjoyment of the simple act of playing with his son.

When the child finally settled down, sleepy, he stood up. "I think I should put him to bed now. Give him to me."

She handed him the child. As he put Kolopac into his crib, he considered the unpredictable paradox that was Kathryn. She clearly loved the child, and was comforted by him, but felt she couldn't accept reassurance from anyone else. Her overwhelming sense of responsibility precluded her from welcoming simple kindness or comfort. He hated to see her so alone. He'd gotten closer to her than anyone, he suspected, but she was still pulling away. He thought that he knew why. He needed to do something about it.

Chakotay went back into the living area. He sat down next to her, took the tea out of her hands and put it on the table. "Kathryn, do you trust me? "

She looked up at him, confused. "Of course. Why?"

He continued. "You're a scientist. Let's run the experiment."

He pulled her into an embrace before she could refuse him. He kissed her, his hips surging against hers, his hands running over the sides of her breasts, and felt her instinctively respond. Gods, he had to stop it before he ruined it all. He pulled away from, her, gasping.

"*Damn* it ,Chakotay."

She tried to get up but he grabbed her wrist. "Give me a minute."

"*What* was that about?"

"Isn't that what's got you worried? It's out now."

"What ?"

"Kathryn, the attraction's been there from the start. Although I didn't realize it'd be quite so stron- never mind about that. Look, now it's out, up front and in the open. So what?"

"I can't."

"Of course not. Not now; maybe not ever. Although- *gods* "

"Then *why* are you pushing this?"

"Because it's been sitting in a closet, like a dirty little secret, waiting to come out. It's out. It's part of our relationship. So, the mystery's solved. The experiment's run; the results in. Sex would be terrific between us. We've both known that for years."

"I -"

"Let me finish. We're not two 16 year olds getting carried away with hormones. Kathryn, I'm forty years old. I've seen more destruction and hurt than most men in ten lifetimes. I'm not willing to be the conduit for any more if I can help it. I'd never let anything hurt you, not even me. And even if I was stupid enough to think about doing anything irrational, I'm not sure I'd have the energy for it anymore. And you know both of us well enough to know that no matter what type of personal relationship we have, we'd would never let it interfere with your command of the ship."

'This is not what -"

"- you'd planned? Life doesn't work that way. You know that. Anyone over thirty knows that." He saw her expression and panicked. "Kathryn, *stop* it."

"What?"

"The "Janeway wall". She looked confused. "You back-up, and retreat when you're working on a problem. This isn't a problem, at least not any more than it was 20 minutes ago."

"The hell it isn't. This has got to be dealt with now. There's too much risk involved for this to get any more complicated than it already is."

"The only way *to* deal with it is to bring it all out in the open and talk about like two rational adults. So we're physically attracted to each other, we're friends, we've become companions. That doesn't mean that I'm going to loose control if I hold you in my arms in my quarters one night. And it shouldn't mean that you have to refuse the comfort or to turn away from it."

"You're talking about an incredibly volatile situation."

"It's not any more or less volatile then it was ten minutes ago. I'm not going to lie to you about it or hide from it. *That's* dangerous. Kathryn, I want you. I've wanted you for years, but that doesn't mean I'm going to risk your friendship, or companionship, or respect trying to do anything about it. Personally, I think a relationship between us could work someday. We're comfortable together, we compliment each other. We've both seen enough to handle things in a mature way if it didn't work out. But there's no need for dramatics or secrecy. We're not some teenaged kids. I'm not going to be particularly upset if - strike that- *when* you turn me down. But the attraction needs to be out in the open and we both need to be honest about it and comfortable with the discussion if we're going to be able to resolve anything. Sex is just a piece of it."

"It's not that simple, and you know it. All of the standards are gone. If we were in the Alpha quadrant, serving as commanding officers, it wouldn't be an issue, at least not onboard ship. It just wouldn't happen. If we'd met off ship, it'd have been easy as well, if we'd both been uncommitted. There would have been a chance to explore something privately - but this."

" This what?" He stopped, very quiet. "None of this would ever have been a question in the Alpha quadrant. I suppose, if I'd stayed in Starfleet ,we might have met eventually. It's a small community. It's surprising we hadn't already, given our ages, and the number of people who actually make it through to command track." He sighed and smiled. "But, as B'Elanna has pointed out repeatedly lately, I'm not exactly the greatest physicist or engineer around; and our circles were very different, scientifically. And after I left to join the Maquis - well, it's surprising that I'm still alive right now when you look at the odds."

He continued. "So it's a Delta quadrant issue, with all the inherent complexities attached to that. The crew knows we're close. We're both professionals, we can handle our jobs regardless, but it's easier on them when command officers get along." He laughed. "It's even 'in the regs.' The rest of it none of their business. Although I bet probably half the crew thinks were sleeping together already. Gossip about command happens on every ship. No reason to think Voyager's any different."

"I hope not. That just make it -"

"- business as usual."

She sighed. "I suppose you're right about that."

"Kathryn, *look* at me. What's different? I kissed you, propositioned you and then turned myself down to save you the trouble - all in order to make a point. I don't plan on doing it with any regularity. It's bad on the ego. But really -the universe didn't shatter. The ship didn't shake." He smiled. " Although with the kiss part I did feel a bit of turbulence, come to think of it. It was all bound to happen sooner or later so now it's done with and you can quit worrying. I'm still the XO, you're the Captain. I'm still your friend and nothing's going to happen physically between us unless we're both ready."

She stared at him, silent, and then shook her head. He thought he'd blown it, permanently, and then she started laughing. He stared at her, mystified by her reaction..

"I'm sorry. You asked what's different. It's just that you're sitting there, with next to nothing on, scratches on your chest, and a har-

"-that's been a problem for a long time and don't pretend you weren't aware of it all along."

He got up and went to the replicator and got them both some more tea. "It's all right to be here. There's little enough joy in life. We're allowed a connection. I don't think anyone in the crew, no matter how disgruntled, would begrudge us that. And it can be whatever we're both comfortable with."

She smiled and shook her head. "From the looks of things, Commander, you may never be comfortable again."

"I've unleashed a monster. "

"Chakotay, this 'open discussion' of yours is going to be far more difficult than what you're suggesting."

"We'll -"

"I know. 'We'll work it out.' But we really *do* have to be serious about this." She paused. "I'm willing to admit there's a physical attraction, but I can't go further than that with it. "

"It's fine, Kathryn. I didn't expect anything else. But can we agree that there's no evil intent attached to putting my arm around you?"

"You really are impossible." He pulled her down to the couch. They sat there, resting.

"This is absolutely crazy. I'm too old to be sleeping on couches all the time."

He smiled. "Well, there's always-"

"Don't even think it. And for heaven sakes, don't say it. I shouldn't be here. Tomorrow is going to be difficult."

"Let tomorrow take care of itself. "

"That's what got you into trouble in the Maquis."

"You're probably right."

"Great help you're turning out to be on this one."

He smiled. 'Sorry, I -."

She sat up and looked at him. "What's wrong?"

"Shoulder. It's just strained."

"You did it today, didn't you?" She looked down at him and continued, "and then you didn't want to go to Sickbay because I'd feel guilty. Absolutely stupid. This is exactly what I'm worried about. Stupid actions, based on perceived concern. If you ever do this again, I will bust you to ensign, mister, I swear I will, and all bets are off. We *have* to work together on this and you can't pull out some stupid, personal concerns." She found a portable medwand that was part of basic supplies, and gave him a hypo before he could refuse.

"There. That'll keep it till morning." She moved back into his arms.

"Thanks."

"No problem. It's your most comfortable shoulder."

"I see." They were quiet for a time.

Kathryn?"

"What?"

"You really are an incredibly beautiful woman."

"Chakotay stop it. We're going to have to set up some rules about this if either one of us is going to get any sleep."

"Sorry. Just thought I'd mention it."

"Chakotay?" She looked up at him and he held his breath, waiting.

"What?"

"I - nothing. Good night, Commander."

"Good night, Captain."

He tried to sleep, but all he could feel was overwhelming relief. Another piece of the wall was down. Maybe, just maybe... He spent the rest of the night wondering just what it was she'd chosen not to say.

Section 6 ( Chapter 12)

When Chakotay walked on the Bridge a half an hour early for duty the next morning, the entire Alpha Team was already there, more than ready. Reports came in before he had a chance to sit down, let alone to ask for them. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the Captain to arrive.

When she did, the crew was ready for that as well. Tuvok's use of the rare, formal acknowledgment of "Captain on the Bridge" made it clear that they were honoring her whether the experiment worked or not.

Chakotay smiled and started the process. "All systems ready, Captain. On your order."

In the end, it was all very simple. The procedure took less than five minutes and just two commands from the Captain. She handled the success casually, completely controlled, and removed to the Ready Room when it was done. It was a classic "Captain" performance, but he did see part of a smile crack when warp went online.

The alpha team was in high gear all day. He was himself; it made it hard to conduct regular business. He wasn't sure he even cared about regular business. He spent the morning blatantly eavesdropping on the communications between Engineering and the Captain, reviewing the stability of the warp engines, and harassing Paris about the ship's tolerance for speed.

At 1400, he finally finished avoiding the inevitable and spent the requisite time thinking about what should be a minor detail. That is, he started thinking about what he'd planned for the evening, or rather, what he'd authorized to be planned for the evening nearly 24 hours before: a celebration. Janeway wasn't going to like it. In fact, he was reasonably sure that she was going to be very annoyed. He'd known that when he'd set up the plan. Still, it *was* "the logical thing to do", as Tuvok had said, given the composition of the crew and the precarious reality that defined life in the Delta Quadrant.

Any other captain wouldn't have cared. In fact, most would have expected some sort of celebration, even demanded one as their due. But this was Janeway. She was going to be annoyed. She was interested in substance, not style; in results, not process; and spent most of her time, in his opinion, oblivious to all of it anyway.

The party was about style and process; important for the crew morale, anathema to Janeway. In the Alpha quadrant, he wouldn't have touched the thing with a ten foot pole. But in the Alpha quadrant, he wouldn't have had a half-Starfleet half-Maquis crew. He couldn't decide what would have been easier. It didn't matter. The bottom line was that if he hadn't orchestrated a party, the Maquis would have held one informally, one that would have been sure to put all of them in the Brig for months. He'd prefer not to have to explain that to Janeway. So, it was better to orchestrate the thing himself with Tuvok and all of Security in on it. Spontaneous celebrations were not a good idea. He remembered the results of spontaneity from too many times in his stint in the Maquis.

The crew needed the relief from the stress of the last two months, to celebrate, and someone to believe in. Janeway, whether she liked it or not, was that icon. The crew needed her.

He thought through why she was going to be irritated. First, she was going to want to keep working. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't see the project as successful yet. Next, she was going to dislike the "fuss" that would be directed at her . She didn't like personal attention. She preferred to maintain distance from the crew. It was a command strategy that worked well in the Alpha quadrant, but was ... difficult in the Delta quadrant.

Finally, she was going to be very irritated at him personally because he'd set the whole thing up. He was her XO. She expected him to know that she didn't like the attention and to smooth the situation over accordingly. She'd see it as a personal betrayal of sorts, which, of course, it was. He was pushing again. He thought she needed to learn how to celebrate and needed the connection with the crew, and the support that came with that.

The irony of it all was that the only way he was going to get her to agree to go was to appeal to her sense of professional responsibility. He rehearsed the argument. She was the Captain; she had an obligation to present an appropriate image to the crew. He'd win that point. So, she'd go as an icon, but he wished he could make her see that it was better to go as Kathryn. The whole business was likely to result in her pulling back even further.

He grimaced. To be accurate, what the whole business was was ludicrous. If they ever got back to the Alpha quadrant, he was going to recommend that they add a section on "how to throw a party for the crew and manage the Captain so she doesn't murder you" into the XO course. He was sponsoring a *party*, for Kahless sake. It wasn't in the job description of an XO anywhere except in the Delta quadrant.

He quit whining. Fact, they were in the Delta quadrant; fact, he was throwing a party; fact, Janeway was going to be pissed, or at the absolute best, annoyed; and fact, her annoyance or irritation or anger or whatever was going to be directed specifically at him, which... fact... *very* unfortunately, was an appropriate response given that he had orchestrated the whole thing.

Of course, it was a completely predictable typical payback of the universe that the situation had come up just after he'd finally broken through some of the personal barriers between them the night before. He wondered, briefly, whether or not he could deny all knowledge of the party. Perhaps amnesia, alien takeover, whatever might be an option. He smiled, and rejected the thought for the self-interested cowardice that it was.

So, ironically and predictably, ship business, in the form of a party, was the next potential personal debacle he saw on the horizon.

There were definitely days when he wished he had never heard of the Delta quadrant.

He finally joined Janeway for an end of day briefing in the Ready Room.

She was at her desk, working. He took a deep breath and started in.

"Congratulations, Captain."

She looked up and smiled at him. "Chakotay, it may have worked."

"It *did* work. You solved it, Kathryn. Torres thinks you'd win the Stein prize for it in the Alpha quadrant. I agree. Finding an alternative to dilithium that's effective in the confinement of a starship is a problem that's been worrying Starfleet for centuries."

"That kind of thinking is premature. The readings are fluctuating and the mix has been unstable all day. "

He sat down across from her. " I know. The alignment's not quite right and we can't push it farther then about warp 4. I had Paris run a few preliminary tests; 3.7's about as high as we can get right now."

Janeway rubbed her hand across her temple. She commented, "At that rate, it'll take us days just to get to Ginn's planet."

"We'll get there. The adjustments you've made today have already increased warp capacity by .5%. The rest will get worked out, eventually. B'Elanna's optimistic, and it's hard to argue with a cheerful Klingon."

She looked back at her terminal, lost in thought. "Well, cheerful Klingons or not, I still need to work on these adjustments. I just don't see why -"

Chakotay decided it was now or never and that he'd better push hard, using surprise to his advantage. "Captain, I'm afraid you're not going to be able to work on that right now."

His nerves started jangling from the silence. He waited.

Finally, she looked up. Her expression was more mystified than angry. "Run that by me again. You're *telling* me I'm not -"

"Well, not if you want to make it to the ship-wide party that's planned for 1900 on time. You *are* the guest of honor, so it would be rude not to. We still have to pick up Kolopac, and get organized."

"*What* ship-wide party? I never authorized a ship-wide party." The confusion was gone from her expression. He didn't like what was left.

"Authorization wasn't necessary. It's being privately sponsored. You did, however, approve the personnel changes needed to organize it. I gave you the roster yesterday."

If looks could kill, he was a dead man, and she was going to make him pay for a long time before she put him out of his misery.

"You set me up. There were over 70 personnel changes in that roster. And you know that I never look at the changes in any detail. It's pro forma to sign."

He hedged, avoiding the inevitable. "Captain, I assumed you'd seen it. Neelix has been working on the party unobtrusively - well, at least as unobtrusively as is possible for him - for nearly two shifts now. I released Paris two hours ago to make sure everything met his usual standards. There were some negotiations still going on when last I checked." He looked up, hoping to divert her back to business, but ended up looking away from the murderous look in her eye.

" Captain, it's all right. We don't need Paris right now. Hammon from beta's on it and she's monitoring speed like a hawk."

She wasn't diverted. "Two days? They've been planning this for two days without my knowing? "

"Actually, two shifts with a break in between. It's about twenty four hours now."

"You're telling me that the crew starting planning a celebration before we knew it was going to work? And that you authorized it? What were you going to do if it failed... hold a wake?"

"Umm... more like an Irish wake. I'm sure you understand, Captain, given your ancestry. You know, the old 'we fought the good fight'... and all that."

She wasn't diverted. "Commander, who's responsible for sponsoring this little event? "

There it was, the question that if he answered was going to result in his death. He smiled, and faced the firing squad. " I am, Captain."

The silence was deadly. He waited. Her comment wasn't long in coming. "I should have thrown you in the Brig the minute you came onboard. It would have saved me lot of trouble."

He suppressed the smile he could feel beginning. The Brig was better than he'd hoped for. "Captain, you've already theoretically busted me back to ensign. You can throw me in the brig if you'd like. I won't mind. But I'd recommend you wait until after the party. It might be hard to explain, otherwise."

He could tell she was angry. Her next comment confirmed it. "Commander, let me be very clear. It's *not* the time for a celebration. I need to work on this. We're barely back up and every moment counts."

He countered, prepared for that argument. "It's exactly the time for a celebration. Kathryn, count your victories, and celebrate them. And even if you can't, the crew needs to celebrate for you. It's important to them."

She was getting more exasperated by the minute. "More Shakespeare? I don't think so. I'm getting really tired of-"

"Not Shakespeare. The comment is simply an observation from the XO about command strategy in relation to crew morale. And an observation from the XO about Command's attitude toward success. It's permitted in regulation 696, which says-"

"Don't bother." She shook her head. "When did you find the time to memorize all the protocol specs? You were Maquis for three years before Voyager. The 600 line didn't even come out until just before we left."

"They've been useful lately."

She was going to kill him; it was obvious. "*Why*, Chakotay? "

The conversation wasn't quite going the way he'd hoped. He came clean and told the truth, or at least part of the truth. "The Maquis would have celebrated either way, Captain. This way, it's under control."

She sighed. "The Maquis...I should have known. All right, have it then. But I intend to keep working on the adjustments. I can stop in for a few minutes later. "

This was the part that was going to get slightly difficult. "Captain, I really recommend you attend. The crew needs you there. The readings have been stable, if not perfect, all day. You can't keep working nonstop, without a break , and this will only take a few hours. And there's a reason to celebrate. It *is* a major success. Most of the crew are scientists, or technicians, even the Maquis. They understand the significance of the breakthrough you've managed. And even if they don't know all the science, they understand it's given us a chance to get back to the Alpha quadrant. That's enough for a celebration for any of them."

He waited for the explosion, but there was none. She just looked at him, resigned. "You have people monitoring the mix during this little event?"

"Yes. I guarantee nothing will go wrong. Tuvok's offered to watch the early part of the shift. He thinks Security needs to be at the party later on. He's right. As for the mix, Torres and Carey are splitting hours during the beta and gamma shift, just to keep things status quo."

She looked away toward the viewscreen, and ran one of her hands over her temple again. "Chakotay, I hate this sort of thing. It's bad enough to attend social functions as the Captain, that's just part of the job, but to attend a celebration of a 'fix' to something I should never have let happen in the first place...I just... damn it, anyway."

He sat silently, absorbing her comments. He'd predicted all sorts of reasons why she might refuse. Most of them were accurate, but he'd never even considered that she might feel guilty about something that had been out of her control. And he'd never thought she might actually tell him what she was thinking.

He tried to reassure her. "No one could have predicted the attack, Kathryn, and no one could have prevented the damage. But you're the only person in both quadrants who could have fixed it, although I know you won't believe me."

He pulled himself together and apologized. "I'm sorry about the party. I understand now why it's difficult for you. But it is necessary for the crew."

She grimaced. "I'm aware of that."

He tried to think of something that would make it easier for her, and then it came to him. "You know, it is your night for Kolopac."

With that, she turned and looked back at him. "Come again?"

He smiled. "My son. It's your night to watch him. You did agree to do it. I'm going to have to keep an eye on other things, seeing as I'm sponsoring this, and so someone has to watch him. Of course, I apologize in advance. He's always quite... distracting."

For the first time since he'd started into this mess, he saw Janeway smile. "I never renege on my obligations, Commander. "

He smiled. "I know."

She finally relaxed. "All right, I concede you this one, Commander. But I expect to know in advance of two hours the next time you decide to schedule a celebration."

"Understood." He was incredibly relieved.

She got up and started walking towards the door. "What I'd really like to know is where you got the replicator rations to sponsor a party like this. Last time I looked we were both down to the dregs."

He stared at her, appalled. He hadn't expected her to pay any attention to the rations. It was definitely best to avoid that discussion. He stayed silent.

She paused at the door, and turned to look at him. " No protocol regs to cite, Commander?"

"Ummm, no. That really was more of a Maquis maneuver. I *can* tell you about it sometime, but I suspect it would be better if you didn't ask."

"I see."

"I hope not, but I suppose it's possible. I didn't *break* any of the regs, if that's what's worrying you. I just ...twisted them a bit. Nothing to cause concern."

"Don't tell me. I'm better off not knowing. Is Tuvok in on it?"

"In, aware, and helped, along with the entire alpha command team."

"I see. Subversion of the ranks as well."

"Not at all, Captain. After all, there was the authorization."

She said, mildly, "You are going to pay for this, you know. One way or another."

"I know."

As he left the Ready Room, he reviewed the conversation. It hadn't been nearly as bad as he'd expected. It was an astonishing thought, but it seemed just barely possible that he was finally getting the knack of managing Janeway.

Three hours later, Chakotay looked around at the party grinning at the absurdity. He'd expected most of it to be ridiculous given the youth and high spirits of the crew. What had surprised him was Janeway's tolerance for the nonsense. She put up with the infinitely sillier and sillier toasts that spontaneously erupted throughout the night with an amused resignation he hadn't foreseen. He'd even caught her laughing at most of them. And when she offered up one of her own, delivered in a dry Captain-like voice, but full of ludicrous comments, he was delighted when the room erupted.

He supposed a lot of it had to do with Kolopac. She kept the child with her most of the night and the combined popularity of the two of them kept her busy. But more of it had to do with Gerron. The young Maquis had decided for the universe only knew what reason to serve as Janeway's unofficial escort. At first, Chakotay'd been concerned. He knew about Gerron's "secret" still, and hoped that the boy hadn't dug too deeply into the stash personally to disturb Janeway. But after an hour, he saw that all that had come of that was that Gerron had developed some false courage. He was slightly tipsy, enough so to be bold enough to approach Janeway, but sober enough not to disturb her.

As the evening wore on, Chakotay was impressed by the sight of Gerron playing "knight in shining armor" . The boy stayed by the Captain's elbow most of the night, kept her moving from group to group, and even succeeded in getting her to dance with Chell. That had been a sight Chakotay doubted he'd ever forget. Of course, Gerron did have some motives of self interest in the interaction. He obviously knew who'd imbibed what, seeing as he'd doled the stuff out secretly. By keeping Janeway away from the worst of it, he wasn't going to land in the Brig tomorrow. But still, he'd gone to lengths that were clearly unnecessary. Perhaps he was growing up.

When some of the Maquis inevitably began to get really wild, the release of stress combined with alcohol, Chakotay decided it was time to leave. He didn't want to have to deal with disciplinary actions. The morning was early enough and if he didn't see it, he wouldn't have to do anything until the reports showed up on his desk.

He looked at Tuvok, who shook his head, crossed his arms, and maintained.

He nodded his thanks and located Janeway, who was talking with Kes and B'Elanna. He wanted to get the Captain out of there before she decided do something "captainly". He retrieved his son, gathered in Janeway, and maneuvered them all towards the door. He got them all into his quarters, palmed the security lock on the door, and put Kolopac into his crib before Janeway bolted.

When he returned to his living area, Janeway was still there, sitting on the couch. He was beginning to have a definite affinity for that particular piece of furniture. He sat down next to her and put his feet up, then put his arm around her shoulders. He watched as she worked her hands through her hair, loosening it, and put her feet up as well.

He leaned his head back, closed his eyes and commented, "It all went well tonight. With any luck, I'll only have four disciplinary actions on my desk tomorrow. Tuvok's getting looser, and resigned to the whole business. Gamma's fine; I just checked the readings. It's all stable. There's no need to worry."

Janeway sighed. " I know. I checked myself. And the disciplinary actions will be Dalby, King, Kohl, and Livvy, I expect."

He opened one eye, and looked down at her, smiling. "Saw that, did you?"

She shook her head. "Hard to miss. Tuvok had it under control. Let's not discuss it now, though."

"I'd agree to that. It's been a long day." He leaned his head back into the couch again and asked what had been worrying him for most of the evening.

"Was it as bad as you thought it would be?"

She laughed. "No, not nearly as bad. I have Kolopac and Gerron to thank for that I think." He heard what he swore was a giggle. He looked at her surprised, but she just grinned and continued, "What did you do to Gerron?"

"Nothing. I did nothing. It was all the boy's own idea. I'm innocent."

She snickered again. "I swear there were moments when he was going to make me sit down. I think he was worried that the excitement was too much for the old woman." She laughed outright. "My guess is that he was worried I'd figure out that he was running the still."

He laughed. "How long have you known about that?"

"Six months or so. I figured if you didn't feel the need to bring it up, I'd leave it alone."

He smiled. "You know, there is another possibility."

"Uhuh... what?"

"Maybe he just enjoyed the company."

He expected her to reject the comment, but instead she settled back into his shoulder. "Maybe he did."

He closed his eyes again, and settled back into the couch. He was startled later, half asleep, when she suddenly slapped her hand on his thigh, then used her hand to balance herself as she stood up. "My neck can't take another night of this. I better go."

He stood up himself, and for some reason, walked her to the connecting door. Perhaps some of Gerron's chivalry had worn off on him. He stopped and lightly grabbed both of her hands in his when they reached it. "Good night, Kathryn."

She looked up at him. "Thank you, Chakotay."

He wasn't surprised when she pulled her hands away, but her next actions left him stunned. She moved her hand across his jaw to the back of his neck, pulled his head down and kissed him. It was a brief kiss, fleeting, but still a kiss. He had just barely enough presence of mind to put his hands around her waist and lightly pull her to him, kissing her back. To his amazement, she put both of her hands around his head and deepened the kiss.

He pulled back, still holding her, breathing in the scent of her hair, astonished at how much what he suspected was a simple thank you had affected him. He tried joking to divert her from figuring out that he was not quite in control.

"This is the payback, isn't it. You plan to torture me."

She didn't say anything at first. She kept her forehead tucked against his chest, under his chin, but moved her hands down to his chest. Finally, she commented, "Just checking."

"Checking what, for Kahless sake."

"Responsibility of the Captain. I need to make sure that all the equipment's in order."

He pulled back slightly, and looked down at her, flabbergasted. He hadn't expected her to have a sense of humor about sex. She was actually teasing him. He smiled. " I guarantee the equipment's in order. Now stop, or I won't promise anything."

She looked up, suddenly concerned. She must have seen his surprise. She ran her hand across his forehead, looking into his eyes.

"Chakotay, are you all right?

"I can live with it. A good XO knows all about torture. They taught us that at the Academy."

She sounded serious. " I'm going to have to review the outline of that course. I seemed to have missed a few seminars."

He smiled and let her go. "Kathryn, torture me as much as you like, whenever you'd like and as often as you like. I don't mind. I'm old enough to stand it, I think. It reminds me that I'm not dead yet, or in my dotage. Lately it's been easy to forget that."

"Sounds a lot like when you let me take over your living space in order to be with Kolopac. I -"

"Let it go. It'll-

"'take care of itself in the morning.'" They finished it simultaneously.

She shook her head. "All right, Chakotay. It can wait." She palmed the keyed in the security to the door, and it opened. When she was on the other side, she turned back. "Good night, Commander. And thank you."

Section 7 ( chapter 13 )

Chakotay rarely saw Janeway in the next two days. He was working with the away teams planned for Ginn's planet and organizing where they would store the raw materials they retrieved. Janeway spent most of her time holed up with Kolopac in the Ready Room working on improving the mix and increasing warp capacity. At 1800 hours, a message came in on his office terminal, coded priority read, from the Captain. He opened it.

"You are cordially invited to a 'crawling and no longer crawling' celebration, courtesy of Kolopac and the Captain. 1900 hours, holodeck 2. Don't eat. Don't wear a uniform."

He smirked. It was typical of Janeway to send a "cordial" invitation with two orders included. He shook his head. His son was bound to pick up the habit from her eventually. The future was certainly going to be interesting.

At 1900, he walked into the holodeck and looked around him in surprise. Janeway had programmed the beach of San Francisco next to the Golden Gate Bridge, in the early evening. There was a slight ocean breeze, the golds of a sunsett just beginning, and the deep blue of the ocean unmarked by anything except the occasional ripple of the waves.

Janeway was supported by her knees and elbows, leaning over Kolopac, facing away from him. He admired what he was sure she hadn't intended as the view. Finally, he decided to admit to his presence.

"Captain."

"Hello, Chakotay. Have a seat." She sat up and smiled. He sat down on the blanket, and watched her play with his son.

"Can I ask what this is about? Not that I object, mind you."

She smiled ironically. "Why, Commander, I would have expected you to understand. It's always important to celebrate one's victories. I prefer my version of the activity to yours, of course. Have some champagne."

She uncorked a bottle that was lying next to her and laughed as Kolopac looked up, fascinated with the noise.

He accepted a glass. "What precisely are we celebrating?"

She smiled and tipped her glass against his. "I told you, crawling and not crawling. We never did have a chance to celebrate the child prodigy here and his clearly amazing talents. Besides, he needs some practice. And as for the not crawling..."

He looked at the relaxed smile in her features. "...you fixed the mix."

"Yep. Warp 9.75 for the last half hour. No problems. I had Paris take us back down to warp 7 just to be safe, but it's done."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

He looked around at the program, noticing the incongruities for the first time. The grass Kolopac and the Captain were playing on was full and lush, a heavy patch next to the sandy beach.

Unlikely.

"Looks like pieces of Indiana have made their way into your program, Kathryn."

"Poetic license, Chakotay. It's easier to crawl on grass than sand... the friction, you know. Try it and see."

"No thanks. I think I'll observe from the sidelines."

He watched her play with Kolopac. She put the child on one side of the grass, then moved to the other, encouraging him as he scrambled towards her, over and over again.

Chakotay looked out at the orange reflection of the setting sun on the Bridge, and then noticed the next piece of poetic license. Two very small furry animals were making their way towards the Captain and Kolopac.

He shook his head in mock disgust. "Puppies and kittens? What's next? Lions, tigers and bears?"

Janeway pulled back as the tiny animals began to lick Kolopac's face. The child squealed, and began to pull at the ears of the kitten and the tail of the puppy.

He was glad the safeties were on. Soon, all Chakotay could see was a mass of fur and pieces of a gurgling child. She got up and sat down on the blanket next to him, with her arms wrapped around her knees, smiling and watching.

"Nope. Parrots."

"Parrots in San Francisco?"

"Why not?"

"Descriptive accuracy... nah... forget I mentioned it."

"Chakotay, you have no creativity in your soul what so ever. And, for the record, I did think about lions, but I decided against it. The kitten's about as much lion as he can handle right now. Except for the sea lions, of course. We should see some of those later."

"I see. A menagerie."

"Of course. You know, I looked at the logs. And except for Sandrine's, Kolopac hasn't been in any programs. He needs to see the sun, and the animals. It's important."

Chakotay sighed. "I suppose you're right, although he is growing up on a starship, Kathryn. Anyway, why San Francisco? Considering the menagerie, programming a petting zoo would have been easier."

She ignored the first part of his question. "A petting zoo's better for when he gets older. Although I did program in a few deer for later. And there *are* deer around San Francisco."

She gestured towards a set of containers by the side of the blanket. "Dinner's on me. We better get to it while he's distracted."

Chakotay smiled. "Some verisimilitude. Kathryn, deer don't come down to the ocean, although at least you've got the species in the right part of the world, this time."

She shrugged, unrepentant. "Never claimed I was a zoologist. Here. Have some of this." She pulled a fruit off of a bush close to the blanket.

"Pomegranate? In San Francisco?"

"I like pomegranate. Don't argue."

He didn't argue. They talked about nothing, ate, and watched the sun set, all the while watching Kolopac play with the animals. When his son started crawling after the kitten, which was determinedly heading down to the water, he smiled. "He's going to get soaked."

She shrugged, and smiled.

He watched his son for another few moments. "And I thought you said sand was tougher than grass. Look at that knee action."

Janeway smiled, watching. "Not bad, I have to admit. He's improving." The puppy started chasing Kolopac chasing the kitten. When the trio came tumbling down, she got up and went to retrieve the child.

He watched and leaned back on a boulder she'd conveniently programmed directly next to the blanket, a boulder ridiculously placed in the middle of a sandy beach, the only one of it's kind. The real San Francisco coastline had boulders all along the shore, rocky outcrops of gray.

Janeway's version was tame in comparison, but convenient for relaxing. She never did anything without a reason.

She never did anything without a reason. He knew that. He was ready when she returned with his son.

"Why San Francisco?"

She looked down at Kolopac, who was determinedly playing with her hair, holding it in his fists. "It's not important. Let's forget about it."

He sat back up, and put his elbows on his knees, thinking. "I didn't start this, Kathryn. You did. And I think we better talk about it. Why San Francisco?"

She stared down at Kolopac, who was still tugging at her hair, and beginning to cry. "He's hungry. He wouldn't eat earlier. He was too excited. There's a bottle next to the picnic basket. Give it to me, will you?"

He handed her the bottle and watched as his son settled down, contented.

She finally came back to the topic. "Chakotay, this is a Starfleet ship. San Francisco's home. It's been my home for close to twenty years now. I wanted him to see it with me. Besides, it was your home for twenty years as well before you joined the Maquis."

"That was a long time ago. "

"Not that long. You spent three years in the Maquis, three in the Delta quadrant; so, six years ago, total." She looked up at him, away from Kolopac. "Don't you ever want to see San Francisco again?"

"No. I don't." He used his best XO tone, one that was definitive, and hopefully made the point. He hoped it would stop her. It didn't.

She kept looking at him. "What about Kolopac?"

He sighed, looked away from her questioning expression, and accepted that if he'd wanted to avoid the conversation, he should never have asked about the program.

"If we get back, I'll take Kolopac back to the tribe. He needs to learn that he's a part of them. Beyond that, I don't know. We don't know when we'll get back to the Alpha quadrant, and what we'll find there. I try not to think about it.

She looked at Kolopac, still eating contentedly. She finally commented, "Chakotay, I'm not asking lightly. I know the chances are nil that we'll both make it back. The longer we're out here, the worse the odds. Command is always at highest risk. But I'd like to know. If it's you, if you make it back, what will you do?"

He looked up at that, astonished that after three years she'd actually decided to ask. It wasn't like her. She'd made a decision about him, political and personal, based on his public record years ago, or she wouldn't have taken on Voyager.

After the Caretaker, they'd made an agreement about amnesty for his crew when he first came onboard, but she'd never asked him about his own views before now. And they'd never talked about his own future. He'd learned not to think about that years ago.

He tried, but he couldn't keep the cynicism out of his voice when he finally said, "You mean what would happen if they don't throw me in a penal colony or conveniently and of course accidentally kill me outright?"

He paused, and continued, trying to calm down. " I honestly don't know, Captain. It depends entirely on what the situation is when like when we get back. I don't think about it. Getting through the Delta quadrant's been enough of a challenge."

Her stare was unnerving him, and her response was unexpected. "I've promised that I'll find a way to make sure the Maquis are all right. I meant it, Chakotay. I'll find a way for all of you, even if I'm the one that's not around to see it. One of us probably won't be. So I'm asking again. If you're the one to survive, what will you do?"

He grimaced, resigned at her tenacity. "Kathryn, we made deal that you'd take care of the crew. I expect that; but I don't expect you to do the impossible. Someone needs to be the sacrificial lamb. That'll be me, of course."

He tried to divert the conversation from the topic he'd avoided for years by articulating how he'd justified his avoidance to himself.

"We may not get back for decades. We may find the same political questions when we get there or there may be a totally different political horizon. For all we know, the Federation might even finally be fighting the Cardassians. In that case, we'd all be, as Tuvok frequently says 'irrelevant'. We might even be useful, although after years in the Delta quadrant, I suspect the Maquis on this ship will all be viewed like a circus sideshow, an anomaly for the public to stare at, and irrelevant to anyone in power."

With that, she quit looking at him and began watching the child again.

"It's probable we'll all be irrelevant, even if we do get back. I've thought that myself. But lately, with Kolopac, I find I can't ignore other possibilities." She tipped the bottle upward, making sure Kolopac was able to get at the contents.

"In the last few months, I've found it more and more difficult to just consider a day at a time. Not that that's a problem for me personally, of course. I've been in Starfleet long enough that the lifespan projections are reality and day to day living is a habit, but for Kolopac it's different.

She paused, and then said firmly, "Kolopac does have a future."

She was silent, watching his son. When she finally said something again her question surprised him. "Why did you join the Maquis?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I need to understand it in order to understand your plans for Kolopac."

He shrugged, negating the need to discuss the obvious. "I think it's clear why I joined, Kathryn. You read the same reports I did. Probably more. I never got to see the classified ones I'm sure they gave you. And even though you didn't see it personally, there were plenty of visual and graphic reports of the Cardassian atrocities. The relocation was wrong, the Federation was wrong, and people died trying to stop it. I decided to help."

"I do understand your anger over loosing Danab V because of a political negotiation, as much as it's possible for someone to emphasize, and not live, that kind of tragedy. The decision was stupidly ironic, but the Federation was locked in a box and they had to follow through. There were no political or military alternatives. Relocation was better than death - the Federation was losing, Chakotay, you must have seen it. You knew the strategic problems."

"You're right, it was politics, all of it. It wasn't about lives, or freedom, or ethics. It was about a political deal. If Starfleet had really backed the colonists-"

"It was too soon after Wolf 459. We both know that the resources weren't there to make a real stand."

"A bluff would have worked."

" I was there at the beginning of the dominos. I saw the devastation at Wolf 459. The Cardassians did as well. It was impossible to keep that kind of destruction quiet."

She handed him the bottle and put his son up on her shoulder. " Here. He's done."

As she began to pat the child's back, she said, "I'm not questioning your anger at the decision. We both know it was politics. Collaborating with the Cardassians *was* wrong, but necessary in the short term."

He started to break in, but she continued. "What I'm asking is why you personally chose the Maquis. There were so many other options for you. You could have resigned, joined the ambassadorial team, and worked to find solutions for your people. You had the stature at that point and you have the inclination and ability to work though bureaucracy against the odds."

Kolopac began to fuss, and she looked down again, changing her motion to soothing circles on his back, rather than gentle patting. " I'm not saying this right. Obviously, you weren't known well, but you had connections. You were the only successful command track officer FROM Danab V. You could have used that. Starfleet would have fallen over on its ass giving you the chance. It would have been an easy political solution for them; hell for you, of course, but no worse than what you must have seen in the Maquis."

He tried to interrupt again, but she wasn't finished. "For that matter, you could have *stayed* in Starfleet, asked to be stationed on the line, and monitored the Cardassians. You could have attached yourself to one of the life rights initiatives organizations - it's permitted - and blown any discrepancies from policy all to hell with public announcements in the media, or just with threats of that to Starfleet HQ.

"* Why* the Maquis? Why use the *destructive* knowledge you'd gained, rather than the *constructive* politics that you're so good at?"

He stared at her, thinking of the incongruity between her casual acceptance of destruction and her gentleness with his son. He said the first thing that came into his mind. "Machiavellian tactics."

She looked up at him, surprised. "What?"

"An Italian. 15 th century. Use whatever's necessary to succeed. You do it a lot; it's a part of your command style. It's *not* one of mine, it never was."

"I don't understand."

He looked back at his son, who'd settled down in her arms, finally satiated. "I couldn't do it then. I probably couldn't do it now. I could not negotiate with anyone under those conditions. Why the Maquis? Because there *was * no real political solution."

She started to object, but he'd had enough. "No- stop. You know that. It was done; decided. By the time I got involved most of the destruction had already happened."

"I could have helped maybe -what - 2000, 3000 relocate? Politics. The dead were already dead; the rest were cared for. The situation had blown up enough that they wouldn't be slaughtered, just forced to leave everything and everyone. There were enough people 'on it' from the life rights organizations and still alive on Danab V to assure that."

He tried not to remember, but still say the words necessary. "There were so many dead already by the time the situation blew. You know what the Cardassians are like."

He paused and looked at his son who had settled down in Janeway's arms. The scene made him uncomfortable. "Give him to me."

When she acquiesced, he took Kolopac onto his lap. The child grabbed his thumb in his fist, and he looked down and smiled. Finally, he continued. "The colonists had a right to live there, Kathryn, a right to choose, and a right to expect the Federation's support. Historically, what happened at Danab V will be defined as a minor problem, a civil relocation. Perhaps they'll even call it a tragedy after a few generations when no one except institutions can be blamed. Only 2000 unaccounted for, in the end, 'statistically'."

He needed to make her understand. "I was there in the aftermath. I saw it. It wasn't just statistics for me anymore. It was my home. There have been other, entirely wrong, "convenient" movements of civilians in the past, even in my tribe's history. Convenience doesn't make it right. Political expediency may win in our lifetimes, but it doesn't make it right."

She granted him the point. "I agree. It doesn't make it right. But why the Maquis? Why join a destructive strike force; a lost cause? Why not fight another way? You knew Starfleet couldn't support another war, and you **knew** the Maquis rebellion was going to fail. You must have. Projections on the results of war, or skirmishes, have been calculated by the political scientists successfully for over two centuries with incredible accuracy, given constant technological conditions on both sides. It was going to fail. You knew that when you joined the Maquis. You *knew* it. You had to have. Why didn't you try something else that might change the balance? It's not like you to give up. I still don't understand."

He resented the question, but acknowledged that it was predictable. He'd been asking himself the same thing for years. She'd risked a lot to even ask. She didn't deserve political dogma as a response. She deserved the truth.

He answered, but refused to look up at her while he did. "I honestly don't know why . But I've never lived by statistics. I understand the logic, but still, they're fallable…I ...life isn't about stats. It's about hope. And - I just don't know why anymore."

He looked down at his son, contentedly mouthing his thumb, and noticed for the first time how similar the child's facial structure seemed to be to his fathers. It was a ludicrous thought. He was imagining what he wanted to see. But still, Kolopac had no signs of being Cardassian. His physical appearance was that of a human child.

He broke the silence. "It seems like such a long time ago. Five years ago I think I could have answered with certainty. Two years ago I could have answered without hesitation. But now - I just don't know. I'd always been the "contrary", the one in my family who never saw things the same way. And there they were; all dead. All of them, over this. Maybe I made the choice to join to prove I could be a part of it - even if it was too late."

Once he'd started talking, he couldn't seem to stop. "Maybe it was just anger; anger, and the desire to strike back. To do anything else would have seemed like betraying their memory. Joining the Maquis, fighting, was easy. I'd been trained in military tactics. I knew how to respond. I was one of the few who did. It was the simplest solution at the time."

He thought back to an earlier time, remembering. "At first there was a possibility that it might work. It was clear we wouldn't win, but we might have just annoyed Cardassians enough, created enough of a disturbance to make it politically uncomfortable for the Federation at home. The atrocities were becoming known. The Federation could have used the Maquis and the atrocities to force the Cardassians into a corner. They didn't; and then it was too late for us. There was nothing left to do but see it through to the end. I can't say I won't make the same decision again, if circumstances are the same when we get back."

He looked down at Kolopac, admitting to himself for the first time how important the child had become to him. "It's interesting how time changes your view on things. I wasn't fighting for cause, or an ideal, although I thought so at the time. It was about individuals, about people, their lives, their beliefs. My father, and both of my brothers were of the casualties of the first attack. I saw the aftermath. I have never been so blisteringly, blindingly angry. I hope I never am again. The devastation was incomprehensible. And so, I joined the Maquis. There is a time in life when things *aren't* gray - when there's a clear choice between black and white. This was one."

Janeway was quiet for so long, watching the sun set, that he thought she'd finally let go of the question. He was wrong. "You fought their battle for them. You took the responsibility. "

"Maybe."

She looked back at him. "Not maybe. You did. You felt you had an obligation to the generations before you, to your father, his ways and to the past."

She looked at him, expecting something. He couldn't give her, or even himself, a definitive answer. He settled for ambiguity. "I suppose so."

She shook her head, and then looked down at his son. "I can understand that. I've done it myself, in a far, far simpler way. But what about now? What about the future? What about Kolopac? Chakotay, if you take him back to the tribe, or if you die out here and ask me to take him back to grow up in a civil relocation camp, as you call it, aren't you making the same choice your father asked of you for him as well? How long can you keep generations bound to reliving the past? Didn't your father try to choose that for you?"

He looked at her, exasperated. He'd tried to explain the death, and its meaning, and the history of it. She couldn't understand. He finally said, "He needs to understand his heritage."

"I'm not questioning that. But Kolopac's unique. So are you. I swear I'll find a way to make it possible to start again if we do get home even if I don't survive this. There are so many alternatives to the future. You don't have to keep reliving the past. Neither does he. I'm not asking you to give anything up, just to move on, to do something more productive for your people, something with hope, and with a future in it. Maybe even in Starfleet."

He laughed. "I doubt it, Kathryn."

"If you go back to the Maquis, he's going to be left alone, without family, a half Cardassian child on a world that justifiably hates Cardassians.

"Even if he's accepted into the tribe, he'll never loose the stigma of that. And if we get back when he's older, he's going to understand Starfleet technology, and have spent all of his life on a starship. How will he fit in then to your world? How well did you fit in, with your dreams of space, you who grew up there with no stigmas attached?"

He shook his head, angry at her inability to understand. "What do you want me to do? Send him off to Seska's connections?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that comment by getting angry. Chakotay, when you joined the Maquis, you made a deal with the dead and stopped thinking about a future. But you can't keep paying homage to the past any longer. The future's sitting on your lap and he's going to need you, and need your help."

She sighed. "Look, you're right. This is all theoretical. The odds are infinitesimal that we'll both get home. But one of us might. And we have to do what's best for Kolopac. You've said you want him to go back to your tribe, and I understand that, but from your plans, or lack of them, he'll be without you either way, whether you live or die out here. Think about what might be best for him. Please."

He looked away, rejecting her request. "I'm not like you, Kathryn. I don't dabble in Machiavellian politics and plans. It's not my style; it's yours. We're different. I've never tried to create situations or the conditions within them - just to live ethically, or as responsibly as I could, within the parameters I've found."

"That's a conundrum. Once you've chosen an action, it leads to reactions and to choices."

He shook his head. " I suppose you're right in some ways. But you can't control all of it. That way leads to destruction, as well."

She sighed. "I know that. I do know it. But with Kolopac... well...I want to try. " She sat there silently, staring at the waves crashing against the beach.

Her comm badge broke the silence. "Go."

B'Elanna responded. "Captain, there's a variation in the mix. It's affecting warp performance. Not bad, but not great. I think it's a problem with - uhhh... anyway, I'm sorry to bother you, but I think you should look at this."

"Acknowledged." Janeway stood up, bent over behind him and put both of her hands on his shoulders, then rubbed her cheek against his hair.

"I'm sorry, Chakotay. I shouldn't leave now. I'm sure you're going to misunderstand, but I have to go. You and Kolopac should stay and enjoy the scenery while you can."

"It's not a problem, Captain."

"God, I hope not. But I suspect I'm wrong. Damn this quadrant anyway."

She left through the door to the deck and Delta quadrant reality.

He sat there alone, holding Kolopac. The sun had nearly set in Janeway's program. When the parrot showed up, and proceeded to sit on his shoulder, mouthing programmed inanities, he decided enough was enough.

Parrots and pomegranates in San Francisco; Janeway's version of a celebration consisted of impossible connections, fantasy and fallacy mixed together. Janeway was good at that. He wasn't.

He looked down at Kolopac, who was trying to play with his shirt, missing Janeway's long hair. A fallacy for his son to trust to her, a fantasy of his own to be ignored.

Parrots didn't belong in San Francisco; he didn't belong back in Starfleet; and he'd been deluding himself to think that he and Janeway could ever work something out.

She was a difficult, impossible and fascinating woman. The irony was that he had been thinking some about the future lately; a future that he'd hoped might include her. In one quick surgical strike, she'd made it obvious to him why that was impossible.

He'd given up any rights to planning a future for himself six years ago. It was a joke to consider any kind of connection, except something fleeting and tangential, between them. She was right about Kolopac as well. He needed to think the future through for the child. Perhaps she could play a role in Kolopac's life, but definitely not in his, not something long term, and lasting.

Damn her anyway. "Computer, delete program, authorization Chakotay alpha 7. 925.

"Acknowledged."

He sat there on the floor with Kolopac, staring at the sterile gray of the grid, appreciating the stark scene before him, breathing it in, rejecting impossible possibilities and thinking about absurdities. Puppies and kittens and death and destruction. No future and a past that went on forever. His reality and Janeway's unfounded optimism.

At least they agreed on one thing. There was no point in planning a future for the two of them, just in living day to day. He needed to be content with that. The present was more than he'd hoped for. It was going to have to be enough.

The hell with it all. She was, after all, a woman who programmed pomegranates in San Francisco and deer that came down to the bay. Ridiculous. Reality didn't mean much to her.

As he left the holodeck, it also occurred to him that she was the same woman who'd broken Karpekov's laws.

He rejected the thought.

Section 8 ( Chapter 14)

Janeway and he beamed down to Ginn's planet the next day, leading two away teams of ten each . He'd taken his team into a series of caves, where the reading on - were exceptionally strong, and they'd begun mining. She'd taken her team to collect the - they'd identified approximately half a kilometer away.

The day was beautiful. There was an orange glow to the atmosphere caused by the planet's two suns that remained overhead throughout the afternoon.

The landscape seemed familiar to him. The dry, stark cliffs of brown and orange rock felt a bit like the canyons on Earth. It should have been safe; they'd scanned for anything unusual in the readings before beaming down and had come up empty.

He was in the caves checking on the progress of the mining when Janeway's hail came in, full of static. "Janeway to Chakotay."

"Here, Captain."

"There's an unusual storm configuration coming up. It's about three kilometers from here. Tuvok just identified it and we're beginning to see the visual signs right now. Get your team out to the beam up site. I've already starting beaming mine up. Move it, Commander. It looks like trouble. Tuvok says the atmospheric disturbances are already beginning to affect readings on the ship. I don't want the teams stranded down here during a storm of this intensity."

"Aye, Captain." He hit his comm badge, sent a short range signal to his team and commanded the evacuation.

Chakotay went back to the cave's entrance to make sure they all got out safely. He counted nine of them; Hendrickson was still missing. He tried a direct comm signal but there was nothing.

He looked at the skies. There was already a torrential rain coming down. He looked to the distance and saw the last of Janeway's team about a hundred meters away beaming up. He sent his team to the beam up site, and signaled Janeway.

"Captain, Hendrickson's not responding. I'm going in after him."

"Acknowledged."

He found Hendrickson in the last part of the caves, still working. "Hendrickson, NOW. Didn't you hear me order all personnel to the beam out site?"

'Commander? No, I'm sorry." Hendrickson turned too quickly and scrambled on the rock, falling about five feet. His leg collapsed, and he hit his head, coming down hard, unconscious.

Chakotay grabbed him, and lifted him up on his shoulder, moving as quickly as possible to a spot just outside the cave's entrance.

He found Janeway there, just arriving. "He's concussed, possible broken leg. I think his comm badge's is out. We've got to get him out of here."

"The signal's too weak to bring up a man without a badge, even with ours working."

He removed his own link and put it on Hendrickson. "Captain, go. I'll stay down until the storm's over."

Janeway was already sending orders to Voyager. "Tuvok, beam Hendrickson aboard. The Commander and I will take cover in the caves until it's over."

There was only static from Voyager, but Hendrickson disappeared. They were left alone. The rain was increasing by the second in its intensity, pounding down on them. It had already soaked through his supposedly atmospheric proof uniform. The once gentle winds were now a gale.

He shouted at her. "Captain, you should try beam up. I'll be all right here and they need you on board."

"I'm not leaving anyone down here without a comm signal."

And that, he supposed, was that. They were just outside the entrance to the cave; not the safest place to be with lightning, but if they moved in fast enough, they'd be all right.

He looked at the structure of the cliffs and realized suddenly why the place had seemed familiar to him earlier - the arroyos, and flash floods.

It was a huge canyon. The waters would get them when they came.

He ripped his pack off his back, and tore hers off in a similar motion.

Rope, he had rope. He threw an end to her, directing her to tie it around her waist. They had cleats, but they needed to move faster than that. Maybe they could use them later, if they survived the first part. He threw the contents of her pack into his, and pushed hers away.

She'd need the balance, and he was more experienced.

Janeway looked at him like he was out of his mind. "What ?"

"Climb! Now. *Do* it." He didn't have time to explain. He pushed her up on the wall as hard as he could to get her moving.

"Are you crazy? The lightening -"

"Better that than the water. It's a canyon. Move. Captain, I know what I'm doing. Just move."

He climbed ahead of her, looking for handholds and footrests, blasting them out with his phaser when he couldn't find any. It was deadly; the slip rock was sheer and wet from the rains pouring down.

He saw a crack. He angled toward it, and slipped in, leaving enough room for her to climb into the lower section. Stovepiping, he let them rest for a minute. They had already climbed close to 500 feet, but it wasn't going to be enough.

He could tell that from the terrain, from how the water had gauged out the rock in other storms. If they climbed another 100 feet or so, they might be above water, but the winds and the lightning would get them if they stayed out in the open.

They couldn't get out of the canyon. They were at least 1000 feet below the top, the sheer walls slicker as they went higher. The odds were infinitesimal that they'd survive.

Then he saw it. Above them, and to the right, there was a black streak, an outline. It looked like a striation, but it was horizontal; the wrong direction. It had to be some sort of ledge or crack. It was 100 feet up and another 100 over to the right.

They just might make it. If it wasn't big enough for them, he could blast more of it out if he had to.

He heard the sound of rushing water in the distance, gaining strength. They had to chance it. He tried to tell her his plan, but realized she couldn't hear him. He pointed to the crack and saw her acknowledgment.

They moved. The lightning blasted against the face of the rock, cutting pieces out that started freefalling to the canyon floor below. A shower of small rock came down on them, and he felt her weight as the rope pulled hard on him. Then she was balanced again.

And then they were there.

It was a small cave, barely big enough for the two of them, but it would do. He pulled her in and they sat there for a moment, both of them startled when the water suddenly came rushing down the canyon floor.

He watched the crack they'd been in moments before get swallowed in the onslaught. But for now they were safe. There was nothing more they could do. They'd either die here, or Voyager would beam them out.

"You did this for fun?"

He stared at her. "I was a lot younger."

She looked completely calm, but her hands were shaking. One of them was covered in blood. She'd been hurt in the rockslide. With the water, they were both soaking. He thought of the next possible problems: shock and hypothermia. He had to do something. He took off the pack and found some emergency warmth, two thin filaments that pulled out to the size of blankets, and a medwand. "Get out of the clothes. Hypothermia."

She began to undress, and he turned his eyes away. When she put her hand on his shoulder, he turned to look at it. It was still covered in blood. He moved the medwand over it, looking intently to see if there were any broken bones. No. It was just bruised, with a bad gash on the side. He closed the wound and began to wipe off the blood, staring at her hand, realizing, now that the crisis was over, how close he'd come to losing her, and to both of them dying.

"Chakotay, you'd better follow your own advice."

He realized he was shaking from the cold, and the strain. He turned to strip down himself, leaving on the lower layer of insulated gray fabric.

He looked over at Janeway again, and saw that they were both still shivering, probably from the shock. Her left knee was in spasm, moving uncontrollably. He could feel the adrenaline still coursing through his body. He moved next to her and pulled her into his side, and looked down to adjust the filaments. That was the last he could remember rationally.

She'd left on the insulated portion of her uniform, and it accentuated her sexuality to him; lush breasts and a woman's hips. Her legs, gods, her legs were amazing; her hair was falling around him, seeming to wrap him in its fire and in warmth. She was power, and muscle, and softness and heat. He'd never wanted a woman more in his life. Desire surged through him. Inescapable. But he tried to stop because he didn't know what she wanted. Then she touched him, pulling him down to her, for the warmth or more he'd never know, because the motion broke his control. He was unable to keep from touching her, and from completing the connection and the communion. And in that, she partnered him.

It was a long time later, while she slept, while he was holding her, while he was watching the sunsets of the dual suns, different yet familiar, of deep reds, and orange and gold, that he first heard the comm link connection. He grabbed the badge.

"Tuvok, we're here. We made it. Do you have a lock?"

"Yes, Commander. We'll beam you aboard immediately."

"No." Janeway had awakened, pulled herself together, and was in command mode. "We've set up camp here. It will take a few minutes to break it. I don't want to leave any residue of our presence."

There was silence on the other end of the link. Tuvok finally said, "Captain, I fail to understand what sort of camp you could have set up in a 161 cubic foot cave."

"We're creative. Five minutes. Janeway out."

With that, she cut the link and put on her uniform. He put on his own, and re-stuffed the backpack. She said nothing throughout and kept her eyes on the sunset. When they were ready, she sent the orders to beam them out.

When they materialized in the transporter room, Tuvok was waiting.

Janeway looked at him, annoyed. "What took you so long to get to us?"

Tuvok replied. " We ran into the unknowns again, Captain. They were cloaked on the other side of the planet. The new Security alerts worked. We were able to identify them before they caused any damage to the ship. They were, however, responsible for the storm."

"Come again?"

Tuvok continued. "I believe that they intended to use the storm to distract us, and then planned to attack. We were able to locate them and destroy them before they did so."

Janeway looked away. "I see. Good work, Lieutenant."

"There's something else, Captain." Janeway looked back at Tuvok, and he continued. "There were no lifesign readings on the ship."

She stared at him. "You're telling me the thing was a remote?"

"Precisely, Captain."

She stared, incredulous. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Tukov remained stoic, assured. "I am."

"*Damn* the Delta quadrant, anyway."

Janeway stormed out of the transporter room. As he watched her leave, Chakotay sympathized with her last thought.

A/N.

TBC.. yes, the chapters are written… grin...


	3. Chapter 3

Section 1

Chakotay decided that the next twenty-four hours ranked as some of the most exhausting of his life. The ship was on red alert. They'd checked and double checked and couldn't find the parent ship responsible for the remote. For all they knew, it was light years away. But it was out there somewhere. The most likely explanation was that the remote had been sent out to determine what had happened to other two ships. That had taken the unknowns nearly a month. The delay may have been because of the distance from which they originated, or it may have been from inattention. If it was the latter, Voyager had their attention now. So it might take the unknowns another month or it might take them an hour, but eventually they were going to come looking.

Janeway was livid about the latest attack and her response was predictable. Her comments to the Command Crew in the Briefing Room eliminated any possible questions about what she thought they needed to do next. He still remembered the words exactly.

"I'll be damned if I'll turn tail and run. We don't know where to run to anyway. We don't know where their space is, why they continue to attack, or how long it'll take for them to attack again. This crew has never, and will not now, hide from the unknown. We're going to control this situation. We need those resources and we're going to get them. We're going to stay, we're going to mine, and we're going to find a way to beat them if they dare to show up again. Let's move it, people."

Janeway sent him back down to the planet with a mining crew to finish getting the resources. At least the work kept him distracted. He wanted to pound something; alien rock was as good as anything else. The work was tense, demanding, and exhausting. Speed and precision were critical. They needed to get the minerals out and then get the hell out. He didn't want to end up stranded on a rock 67 light years from home. And most of all, he didn't want to be down on a planet when Voyager engaged the aliens again.

The current crisis had obviously put any personal issues he and Janeway had onto an appropriate back burner. To do anything else would have been unprofessional. But even he'd been surprised at how easy it was to slip into their professional roles with no awkwardness between them. It was as if nothing of import had happened.

At least, that's how it was when they were onboard Voyager. But when he was down on the planet, pounding rock, with no sleep for forty-eight hours and his frustration level at an all time high, he couldn't keep stray thoughts from fleeting though what was left of his brain. None of them were pleasant.

He'd lost count of the number of times he'd cursed himself as a fool. He'd assured her he could control himself, and he'd broken the promise the minute their defenses were down. The worst part was that when he tried to convince himself that he could have stopped, if she'd asked, he didn't really believe it. He was going to have to live with that for a very long time. In his better moments, he assured himself that she would rationalize the encounter to simply be the effects of adrenaline and fear heightening their emotions, with sex the obvious conclusion to it all. He'd felt that sort of adrenaline rush before, upon occasion, but the problem was he'd never acted on it before, not once in 26 years of combat situations. And somehow, he was sure Janeway'd never acted on it before either.

He shut his mind down and concentrated on blasting the rock.

When they finally left Ginn's planet with the necessary resources and were no longer sitting ducks, Janeway's anger at the unknowns burnt itself out. What was left was a cold, calculated, calm determination. She expected another attack eventually and this time she intended to be prepared. A calm and controlled Captain was something the crew was used to. He could almost feel the collective sigh of relief as they headed out into the Delta quadrant on their way home.

But, although things had returned to what was considered status quo by the crew, his personal relationship with Janeway was anything but that. The Janeway wall was up again; an impossible barricade. He knew it was temporary, but a bad sign. She was chewing on the problem; the results were going to be difficult, unpredictable and unexpected. They always were.

The two things that had remained constant were their working relationship and the situation with Kolopac. If anything, she seemed more protective of Kolopac than before the last attack. And their interactions continued to be appropriate and professional. He doubted that the crew had noticed any change. But when they were alone, he'd been extremely careful in his interactions with her, afraid she'd never forgive him, and that she'd pull so far back he'd never be able to retrieve any of it.

He let her sort it out, worried, cursed himself repeatedly, and missed her. The memory of her laugh, the way she fit into his arms, and the overwhelming desire he'd felt came rushing back to him at night, which he expected, but also in unconscious moments; in the mornings when he wasn't yet awake, when she accidentally touched him during working hours, and during what seemed now to be incredibly empty evenings.

Five days into the calm and past Ginn's planet, she finally showed up in his quarters. She was sitting on the couch, in casual clothes, reading a padd and drinking some coffee when he walked in after working beta shift.

She put down the padd, sat up and smiled at him. He suddenly realized that he hadn't seen her smile in days. It threw him off balance more than anything else she could have done. He had no idea what to say.

She didn't seem to notice. "Hello, Chakotay. How was the shift?"

He sat down next to her on the couch, his hands clasped between his knees, and looked carefully at her coffee cup, not wanting to see her expression. "Everything's fine. Ayala and Dalby had a run in over who was responsible for a faulty connection in the transporter circuitry, but that's about all. No sign of any visitors, of course." He paused and asked the obvious. "I assume Kolopac's asleep by now."

She put her feet up on the couch under her, and moved her arm out along the back of it. "Yes, of course. He's been asleep for nearly four hours now."

"I see." But he didn't see anything, and he had no idea how to begin to tell her that.

The silence was uncomfortable. She finally broke it. "Chakotay, we need to talk."

He grimaced. " I know. I'm sorry. I've tried to think of at least a dozen ways to apologize but there isn't any."

She broke in mildly before he could say anything more. "That's not necessary. But we need to - oh hell." If anything, her voice sounded more resigned than angry. She paused, and finally commented, "You're beating yourself up over this, aren't you?"

He didn't say anything.

"You *are*." Her tone was that of mild exasperation. It was confusing. It was even more confusing when she put her hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her, and he saw that her expression was composed of nothing more than concern. She finally said, "You've got to stop or we're never going to get this straightened out. Look, you're the one who pointed out that we're too old for dramatics and that we need to talk about this attraction openly."

He looked away again. " I seem to be good at pointing out a lot of things lately that have no -"

She interrupted. "You have got to stop this. This conversation is going to be difficult enough without adding unfounded guilt into the equation. Chakotay, look at it rationally. So, hormones at 40 aren't as controllable as we thought. But look at the situation. The whole thing reads like a bad holonovel. Adrenaline and fear are powerful emotional conduits. And the likelihood that we would both be on a planet, at the same time, under those conditions - it's almost like someone's idea of a cosmic joke." She shrugged and shook her head, ironically. " It **was** someone's idea of a joke. We just don't know who right now. It was a deliberate attempt to attack subversively."

He turned away from her questioning glance. "Kathryn, I don't understand you. You have every right to be blazingly angry. You'd told me you weren't ready to escalate what was between us. And I told you I could handle that. And then ..."

"Chakotay, listen to me. We're both responsible for what happened on Ginn's planet. It was a consensual act."

He shook his head. "I understand what you're trying to say but the facts aren't..."

She was clearly exasperated. She took her hand off of his arm, and crossed her own. "It is unbelievable that you have managed to survive to 40 odd years without being murdered. Let me try again. Slowly, this time. Listen. I didn't quit being Kathryn Janeway just because we landed on a planet, got stuck in a storm, survived it and then decided to have sex. You didn't manipulate anything. I *did* make a choice. And if I had chosen differently, nothing you could have done would have changed it. It wasn't force, and you didn't take advantage of the situation without my agreement. I would *never* let that happen to either of us. Got it?"

He smiled, finally believing her and tremendously relieved. "Got it. Thank you for telling me."

She smiled back. "You're welcome. I was beginning to worry that you'd left your sense of perspective down on the planet." She looked at him carefully. "You know, you look terrible. When's the last time you got a decent night's sleep?"

He shrugged. "About a week ago. It's been busy."

She sighed, and got up, and went to the replicator. When she returned, she put a cup of Risan tea in front of him. "Not that busy. Drink that. It'll help. I'm sorry I've left this for so long. I wanted to be sure about what I had to say."

He took a sip of the tea. "It's all right."

She leaned back into the couch again, drinking her coffee. "Actually it's not. We do have a problem."

He waited, saying nothing. He had no idea where she was taking the conversation. It was better to just let her get it all out.

She continued. "I think I better be very clear about this. Our actions on the planet affected no one but ourselves. And, really, the only other alternative was to look at that storm and freeze. There was nothing else to be done; no decisions to make. They'd already been made. We made the choice to escalate the connection between us a long time ago. Consummating that wasn't a surprise, and it wasn't accidental, no matter what the circumstances. It was a logical outcome of what had been going on for a while. But that doesn't change the fact that we did lose control. That can't happen again."

He didn't want to chance another misinterpretation. The last one had kept him up for days. "I don't understand."

"The problem isn't that we decided to have sex, but it in the way we chose to do it. The time, the place, the situation were totally unplanned. Even though we made a choice, it was momentarily done, without discussion or understanding."

He must still have looked confused because she tried to clarify her thoughts. "Chakotay, it's clear that there's more going on between us than what constitutes a single sexual encounter. That would have been easy; we'd both have been able to get past it almost immediately, with a few apologies and some distance. But this is different, and it is affecting how we interact. You've been losing sleep over it and walking on eggshells around me all week, and I suppose I haven't exactly been the most forthcoming person on the ship lately."

She continued. "We've been out of control and irresponsible in letting the attraction between us escalate gradually without a clear discussion or understanding of where it might lead, and what we can live with. I think *I'm* responsible for that. You have tried to talk to me about it. "

When it was apparent she had nothing more to say, he ventured a comment. "You *have* set limits on this. I just kept agreeing and then kept pushing you every way I could think of."

She rejected the thought. "Chakotay, you don't get to have all the blame. I haven't been passive in this. I've known perfectly well what was happening, and just chose to ignore the issues. But we can't do that anymore. We need to have a discussion about this and work out a real agreement on what is and isn't possible. And we need to set limits."

He didn't like the sound of that, but he was hardly in a position to argue. Whatever justifications she made, he still knew, personally, what had happened to him on Ginn's planet was that he had been out of control. He didn't like the thought. He waited to hear where she was going to take the conversation next.

"I have a proposal."

"I thought you might." He thought, cynically, that 67 years of cold showers was a very long time .

"What?"

"Nothing. Go ahead."

"We're friends." He nodded, and she continued. "And the circumstances are unusual to say the least."

He had to agree with that. He gestured for her to go on.

Her tone was calm, almost musing, when she spoke again. "As you've pointed out, there's been a physical attraction between us for a long time now, and spending so much time together because of Kolopac has enhanced that. We're in the middle of nowhere... and seventy years is a very long time. The command isolation, and the danger every day doesn't help. Celibacy is unlikely under the circumstances. Situations like Ginn's planet are going to come up again. We need to control them, not let them control us."

He stared at the desert painting across from the couch. So far, all she'd done was review what they'd been through before. "Kathryn, maybe you should just get to the point. What do you suggest?"

She said, mildly, "I think we should have an affair."

He stopped cold, and turned to look at her again, unable to believe he'd heard her correctly. "What? I - uhhhh, maybe you better define that for me." He couldn't believe it. He was actually asking her to define parameters.

"We're already friends, and companions, and we both seem to need the connection and the closeness. And, well, let's just say you were right about your predictions on the sex."

"But -"

"But that's as far as it can go. I'm asking for discretion and maturity. I can't make an affair public. I'll stop it immediately if I hear anything that might indicate otherwise."

She paused and then continued. " I don't expect a commitment from you but I do expect honesty . I need to know if the situation changes, or you change your mind. And I need a guarantee that we can come out of this as friends, regardless of what happens. I can't offer anything else, I can't ever commit to anything permanent. But I can offer honesty and discretion in return."

He didn't say anything; he wasn't sure he a had a voice anyway. She sounded clinical and absolutely rational and scientific, sitting there suggesting an affair. And she expected him to understand that it was for convenience, and to be uncommitted and temporary. Discreet, mature, and rational. They were to be friends, and colleagues. The affair was a way to assuage physical needs and to keep them from losing control again. And she was telling him, bluntly, that that was all she would ever be prepared to offer.

And it was all she would ever offer. And the universe knew, as he did, that he needed her in his life. But discretion, maturity, rational behavior - none of them were inherent parts of his personality. He'd left the tribe for Starfleet, left Starfleet for the Maquis. Quick action based on instinct was what had saved his life innumerable times and got him into the worst places in his life at others. He suddenly knew, with a clarity of self-knowledge that came only a few times in a lifetime, that he was going to do it again. He was going to chance that he could live with her parameters.

She must see he was a risk. Age didn't alter character, at least not that he could see. Even tempered with years of experience, he was still mercurial, and spontaneous, often irrational. But she knew him, knew his record, even knew his personal life. He had to trust that she understood her own risks, and that he could live with the consequences of his own actions.

He'd clearly been silent too long, because she broke stillness that had settled over them. "Chakotay?"

"I can live with it."

Her searching expression made it clear she wasn't sure she believed him. "Can you? I need you to be very very sure. I don't want you to end up hurt by this. This time it's real, Chakotay. There aren't going to be any new limits. I can't and I won't be able to change about this."

He thought about that very carefully. Before her "crawling" celebration, he might have argued, might have questioned her attitude about limits, might have pushed her to admit to the possibility that some day there might be something more between them. He might even have argued with her belief that she could control the future and set conditions on their relationship. But he knew now he had no right to argue or to expect anything more.

In the end, he didn't say anything. He stood up and held out his hand. She looked up at him seriously, and then grabbed his hand and stood up herself. She looked down at their hands. "You should get some sleep."

He smiled. "That can wait."

He took her to bed, and took her until they were both out their minds with the pleasure of it. Nothing else was said. In the morning, she was gone. If it hadn't been for her scent, still lingering on his body, and the unwieldy display of the bedclothes, he'd have believed he'd imagined it all. But he knew his imagination wasn't that good. And with that, he knew he was in trouble, but he'd agreed to her conditions and he had to learn to live with them.

Section 2

For the next three weeks, Chakotay wavered between feeling like either the most exasperated or contented man in the quadrant. The unknowns still hadn't shown up, which was good or bad depending on how you looked at it, and Kathryn Janeway was both driving him slowly insane and making him incredibly happy.

Kathryn and he reestablished a schedule for taking care of Kolopac in the early evenings. They showed up with him separately in situations where crew would be around in an effort to be discrete. But she'd given up any pretense of a separate schedule in late evenings after the first week. Unless meetings intervened, she spent the time with them both.

The contented piece of him was definitely contented. Though he doubted she actually thought of it that way, Kathryn had moved into his quarters. And when they were alone, she was responsive, brilliant, beautiful, charming and absolutely focused on Kolopac and him. The nights, even many of the evenings, were more than he'd ever thought he'd have in his life, and more than he'd ever imagined. The challenge was to even make it out of his quarters after shift to do the necessary circulating she thought was important. It was difficult, and occasionally, they failed at it. He didn't object to that kind of failure in the slightest. Unfortunately, Kathryn did.

It wasn't the only thing she objected to, and that was what was exasperating. Separately, he would have thought of each incident as detail of little concern. Together, the picture was disturbing him.

He remembered the first time he'd realized something was clearly wrong. It had been about a week after they'd started the affair. They had been sitting together in the Mess Hall with Kolopac, and the child had managed, once again, to pull down a piece of her hair . Without even thinking about it, he'd instinctively reached over and moved it across her shoulder out of Kolopac's way, then rubbed his hand over the side of her face in a sight caress. She hadn't said a word, but he could tell she was furious with him. He supposed she was right; it was an intimate gesture, hardly one of a man who was simply her friend or colleague. But he doubted that anyone had noticed. Still, she'd retreated back to her own quarters for the next two days.

He tried to remember to keep his distance in public after that, but he'd blown it a number of times. The incidents were usually when he wasn't paying attention. He'd put his hand on her waist to guide her in Sandrines, or catch himself standing too close to be considered correct protocol. Each time he blew it, she'd pull back for a while, and then eventually forgive him.

He'd be angry about it except that he'd agreed to keep the arrangement quiet in public so he had no right to complain. He didn't want to disrupt what they had. He also hoped that once she got used to the idea of something between them she'd loosen up on the "details." So far, the latter strategy wasn't working at all.

The most difficult piece for him to accept wasn't the distance she insisted on in public, but the barriers she'd set up to control what occurred between them privately. The one that was most obvious to him lately was that she was never there in the morning. It had taken him a while to realize that it was deliberate, and a pattern. She was never there when he and Kolopac woke up.

And he was worried about her attitude about the unknowns. The longer they went without seeing any sign of the aliens, the more intense she became about the problem. It didn't make any sense to him. For all they knew, they might never see the species again. He was thinking about the latter problem one night when he walked into his quarters with Kolopac.

Kathryn was at his terminal, working. She looked up when he entered. "How was the gym?"

He smiled. "The usual. Most of Security and a smattering of Ops. We're going to have to get into something soon, or I swear most of Tuvok's team is going to do some damage from the workouts. What are you up to?"

She looked back at the terminal. "Reviewing strategy."

He put Kolopac into his crib, now out in the main room, and went into the bedroom , returning in casual clothes. He got her a glass of wine and one for himself. "Strategy for what?"

She accepted the glass, still looking at the terminal. "Hmmm... oh, tactical. I like to review some of the classics , and not so classics, to be sure it's all readily available mentally if I need it."

He knew the reason for the review. "Sounds like you're planning for the next unknowns encounter."

"It's just a matter of time. No one strikes outright once, then subversively, and then just gives up. It doesn't make sense."

Her certainty bothered him. He tried to reason with her. "Kathryn, it's been nearly a month. For all we know we could be out of their space by now. You've had the ship on yellow alert all that time and Security has reworked the alerts so many times I suspect that's why they're in the gym taking out their aggression. Can't you let it go, even if it's just for tonight?"

"No. They're out there. I know it."

He sighed, gave it up, and ventured a joke. He wasn't going to get anywhere with the discussion. "Well, thank the universe it's that kind of strategy."

She looked up in confusion.

"I thought it might be something I had to be worried about personally." He gave into her continued interest in work, sat down on the arm of the chair, and looked at the data. "Hmmm... I think that's 'Markov's proposition.' He tried it at Gamma 5. Failed. Of course, he wasn't watching his tail. Stupid."

"Yes, wasn't it? Amazing that man got a commission."

She pulled up another scenario. He looked at the new configuration, beginning to get interested himself. " That one's tougher. But still, it's Karye's stand at Losloff. It was a decent strategy. He was just outgunned in the end. He expected the Hannover to back him but she'd been damaged. You know that one is interesting... if he'd just moved five minutes earlier, it would have worked."

"I've always thought that too, but it's not the textbook prediction."

"Still, it's true."

She looked back at him, curious. "How do you know?"

He shrugged." I had to use it once in the CDMZ. There were no other options." He thought about the encounter, and smiled. "It was a long time ago. Show me some more."

She brought up the next strategy. He commented, after looking at the specs for a while, "Now that's interesting; I haven't seen it in a long time. I'd almost forgotten about it. Jemson's firewall. He was up against unbelievable odds, 5 to 1, and outgunned as well. It really was a classic maneuver. They needed - to make it work, though. Jemson must have had a terrific science team."

Janeway replied. "Actually, Sulu figured out the basics of the science years before at -. This was just an enhancement . Jemson had it nearly right, but there's a flaw in his strategy. He was lucky."

"Yeah, if there'd been a 'reserve' ship hiding from the other side, he'd have never have made it."

"Exactly."

They ran through a number of scenarios over the next hour, throwing critiques and comments at each other throughout.

Finally, Janeway stopped and looked up at him. "Chakotay, I've been developing this database for years. It's a file I set up when I started command. The first ones are standard. But the rest are pretty unusual. I know them, but I pulled them together. How are you familiar with them?"

He was surprised at the question. " I did do more than just conn to get into command track, Kathryn. I may be 'engineering challenged' as B'Elanna might say, but tactical strategy has always been a particular interest of mine. And once I see a scenario, I just seem to remember it. Always have." He laughed. "It's probably the only thing that saved my ass in the Maquis, in the end."

She commented, musingly, "It's not in your Starfleet record. Although there was some mention about 'unbelievable luck' in the analysis of your Maquis activity. There wasn't enough data about your ship's specs to do more than speculate on the reason, though."

He thought about the past. "Well, the Starfleet part depends on when, I suppose. It's in my record from the Academy from Cioggi, Allison, some others. But there's not much later. It's not exactly the kind of knowledge you willingly share with COs."

He laughed, mocking himself. "Excuse me Captain, but did you know that that was a Killingan loop - and that you failed to catch the last part because you ordered the turn too soon?" Not good policy. Although when things got bad enough on the Einstein, I did make a few 'polite suggestions as the new Ensign'. Unbelievable gall on my part, but I was young. To give Keenan credit, he never seemed to mind; he even recommended me for lieutenant commander based on some of the incidents. He didn't generalize, so it wouldn't have shown up in the record as a pattern. Hanson, on the other hand, on the Hiko, resented any and all interference, so unless it was clear it was suicide, I stayed out of it."

"I see." She smiled. "What about on the Voyager?"

"Never had a reason to mention any other options, yet. The CO seems to have a definite flair for strategy - in more ways than one."

He leaned down to kiss her, taking advantage of her distraction. " You know, it's getting late and we both have early morning meetings."

She shook her head, but acquiesced. "Let me get this shut down."

"Leave it. I'll take care of it tomorrow." He pulled her up and towards his sleeping quarters. "You really are beautiful, Kathryn."

"Glad you approve, Commander."

Much later, she began to get up and leave. He was awake, he'd been awake nearly every night when she'd left. But he'd never mentioned it before. He shouldn't now, but it seemed to be his night for questioning barriers. "Why don't you just stay?"

She sat back down on the side of the bed. "I can't."

He pulled himself up, resting on his elbows. "Kathryn, it makes no sense. You're comfortable here. It's just between us. We're both tired. I want to hold you. Stay with me."

"We agreed to the general conditions of this. This is a specific. I can't stay; not now; not ever. Please don't ask again."

He looked away from her. "I see."

"Chakotay -"

"It's all right. I understand."

" I hope so. Good night." She looked at him, searching his face. He maintained what he hoped was a reasonably impassive expression. She finally left for her quarters. He knew better than to ever ask again.

Section 3

After a night of little sleep and a long day of problem solving, Chakotay finally walked into Janeway's Ready Room for an end of shift discussion and found her on the floor with Kolopac. She had the child standing, balancing on his feet while she held him up.

He was suddenly furious. "What are you doing, Captain?"

She kept her eyes on Kolopac and smiled, failing to note his anger. "Giving Kolopac a little practice. He was early to crawl, so I expect he'll be early to walk. I thought if we let him know what's next in the agenda -"

"No." He tried to control himself. If he said anything more, he was going to explode.

Janeway continued to look at Kolopac, who was still balanced precariously on his toes. "Chakotay, most of what I've read says you need to help them practice, the earlier the better." She smiled at the child. "Look at him handle that. He's nearly on his feet."

He was so angry he only barely managed to get his next words out. "I said no, Kathryn. I meant it." He bent down and took the child from her arms, ignoring her surprise, and then walked to the viewscreen, looking out. "He'll learn in his own way, and he'll do it when he's ready. I will not allow you to establish impossible expectations for my son."

There was complete silence. He took deep breaths trying to calm down, appalled at what he'd said and the unjust nature of the accusation. He turned around and looked back at her. She was still sitting on the floor, staring at him, still silent. He tried to apologize. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for and out of line."

"This isn't about Kolopac, is it ? " She stood up and walked over to him, still staring.

He turned away from her questioning expression, refusing to ask himself what had generated his explosion. He finally said the first thing that came into his mind. "You've had the ship on yellow alert for over a month. It's wearing on the crew. It's wearing on me. Voyager can maintain readiness without the constant stress. Everyone's tired, Captain. If we stay at this state of readiness much longer, the crew will be exhausted if the unknowns do show. The longer we move safely through space, the less likely they'll reappear."

He asked what had been disturbing him for weeks. "What makes you so certain they'll come after us?"

Janeway didn't reply at first. He looked out at the stars, now angry at himself for his impossible outburst. When she did respond, he was surprised at the answer. "It's what I would do if I decided to go hunting."

He supposed, later, that it was a predictable irony of the Delta quadrant that Tuvok broke the silence at that exact moment announcing the arrival of two of the unknowns ships. Of course, there were no lifesigns.

For three days, the unknowns shadowed them, copying every move Voyager made. They stayed just out of firing range. Janeway hailed them repeatedly, without result. When she turned and confronted them, they backed away, breaking off, only to return again when Voyager resumed her course. They were clearly waiting for reinforcements; it was only a matter of time until they'd engage the ship.

The impasse finally broke when Chakotay was on the Bridge. Janeway and he had split the rotations, each on a twelve hour shift. There was nothing to do except watch and wait, and prepare for the attack. He was staring at the view screen when he saw it. "Tuvok..."

"Acknowledged, Commander. The readings are coming in now. It is not apparent whether the irregularities are ships or normal fluctuations due to the nebula we are approaching.

"Let's assume the worst. Shields up, red alert. Captain to the Bridge. Tuvok, with those readings, there must be a lot of them."

Tuvok broke in. " Scans verify that there are an additional four ships, approaching at warp 8. No lifesigns."

He damned the aliens silently. Janeway wasn't going to like the last piece. He didn't like it himself. But for the last three days, he'd reviewed every maneuver he could remember of ships that were outgunned and had managed to survive the encounter. He was ready, remotes or not. "Harry, take a reading on the composition of the cloud. Look for -."

When Janeway arrived, he looked over at her and reported. "Four on the way. Warp 8. No lifesigns."

She shook her head, and bit her lower lip, annoyed at the last piece of information.

Kim broke the silence. "Commander, the nebula does contain -"

Janeway scanned the tactical report and then looked over at him again. "All right, I agree. We go with Jameson."

Chakotay smiled and kept his eyes focused on the displays.

She turned to Paris. "Set a course for the nebula, Tom, at 8.9. But wobble."

"Captain?"

"I want the ship to look like she's barely managing 8.9, undergoing significant stress. Stay out of the line of fire if you can."

"Understood, Captain."

"Commander, set up the probable line of trajectory, targeting the highest level of density of - in the cloud and send it across the boards. "

He made the calculations and sent them to the Bridge command stations. "Captain, if there is a reserve ship, I predict it will come out of the 'ceiling', above the box they're putting us in."

"I agree. Add it to the calculation. Let's assume it's there."

Paris commented, "Captain, they're closing, I can't keep them at bay much longer at this speed."

"Understood. Hold on. Keep moving to the target site. I want them right on our tail when we get there."

Janeway reviewed the data he'd sent to each of her senior officers. "Tuvok, Kim - prepare to implement . Paris -warp 9. Now. Expect another ship - predicted at mark 5.465."

She waited. When they were directly on top of the nebula, she commanded the maneuver.

Tuvok fired phasers into the nebula. A firewall of immense magnitude exploded from the cloud. Paris flipped the ship moments after, and maneuvered through a gap that had been created in the firewall . The six unknown ships, unable to stop, crashed into the wall and exploded.

The "reserve" ship came out of hiding, breaking through the firewall. Paris lurched the ship from it's targeted course, moving it directly down and out of the firing range of the last vessel.

"Hail them." Janeway had barely given the order when the alien ship exploded. "Report. "

Tuvok responded. " They deliberately blew the warp core, Captain. It was a suicide."

Janeway negated the comment. "It was a remote. They were all remotes. The unknowns blew it up to keep us from learning anything useful. I know they're out there. There has to be another ship out there. Look for it."

She kept the Alpha team scanning for six hours. There was nothing there. Chakotay finally forced her to acknowledge it. "Captain, the parent ship's not here, or if it is, we're not going to find it. I recommend we scan the debris. Perhaps there's something useful."

She glared at him, and then shook her head, resigned. She got up. " Do it. Commander, you have the Bridge. I need to retrieve Kolopac from Dalby - he was the only one in the lift when we went to red alert. Send the data to the 6th floor Ready Room as it comes in."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Aye, Captain. Stand down red alert, but maintain shields at maximum."

They spent the next six hours searching the debris scattered throughout the nebula, hoping to find something that would give them a lead on the unknowns origins. They finally found a piece big enough to merit evaluation. He had it beamed to Cargo Bay 2 and put Engineering on it to figure out the components. After three days of no sleep, his vision was beginning to blur. He left Tuvok in charge, Vulcan stamina showing little sign of stress, and left to locate Kolopac and the Captain. He had a lot of apologizing to do.

He found them asleep in his bed. Janeway was lying with her arms wrapped around his child, both of them secure and safe. The child's head was tucked up against her chin, his thumb in his mouth. Her hair was down around him. He felt the image sear into his memory and realized, suddenly, that he wanted nothing more from the universe than the right to care for and protect both of them, and to feel this way every day of his life. The thought left him appalled, and breathless, and with that, he knew he'd failed. He'd been wrong about all of it. He hadn't been angry at her because of Kolopac or the unknowns. He was the one who wasn't going to be able to live up to her expectations.

He stood at the doorway, unable to move. A part of him wanted to lay down beside them, to hold them both. A part of him wanted to run, to escape the image, and his emotions. It was far too complex to work through. The adrenaline in his veins seemed to recede, leaving nothing but a bone-tired weariness.

In the end, unable to reconcile desire and need with reason, he simply sat down on the chair beside the bed and watched them sleep; watched over them both. He'd expected that physical exhaustion would take its toll on him as well, but his mind was too active. He sat there in the dark, watching them, with a thousand scenarios of the present and the future running though his mind. He started when she awoke and looked at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Chakotay ?" Her voice, her eyes, were searching for an answer to an unasked question. He could feel her uncertainty, still hidden under a veneer of long learned control, but somehow apparent to him. But how to reconcile it? How could he explain his now acknowledged, finally admitted emotions about her? How could he tell her his feelings for his son, for the child he never wanted and she nurtured, held in her arms? How was he going to let her know of his failure to live up to what she'd asked? It was too difficult to even begin.

She turned away. "I can't believe I fell asleep. Kolopac was crying. I just meant to calm him down. What's the status?"

He turned away as well. "We found a piece. Engineering's running over it now. No sign of any more company. I left Tuvok in charge. He'll contact us at any sign of irregularity. It's a waiting game." He paused. "Kathryn, I'm sorry. You were right. I can't do this any -"

She said quickly, " It's all right, Chakotay. You were right to worry. I was pushing the crew too hard, logically. I don't know how I know what the unknowns are going to do, but I just do. Let's forget about it."

He stared at her, stunned. And then he remembered the argument.

She misunderstood his expression. "*I'm* sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep here - to intrude. I'll -"

He interrupted, unwilling to let her leave. "You can't possibly intrude. You belong here." He was appalled even as he said the words. He didn't know what idiocy in his makeup had made him blurt them out. He must be incredibly tired. Or tired of holding his emotions in check for so long.

She held out her hand to him, silent, but her eyes seemed to convey what he wanted to believe. He took her hand, fell into the bed, and held them both until exhaustion overtook them all. He thought, fleetingly, as sleep claimed him, that he'd never felt more content and at peace in his life. But she was still gone in the morning when he woke up, and with that, he knew he'd imagined it all, seeing only what he hoped to see.

Section 4

The irony was that the more Chakotay acknowledged to himself how he felt about Kathryn, the more deeply he disagreed with her decisions. He reviewed the problem. The one positive piece was that personal and professional issues were still separate in his mind, distinguishable from each other. He smiled at the thought and amended it. The real irony was that that was unnecessary. He thought the Captain was wrong on both counts. He kept silent about all of it, trying to maintain a precarious balance. He was losing the battle.

Harry and B'Elanna had managed to ferret out a star chart from the debris of the last ship. There were coordinates for a planet and for what looked like the boundaries of the alien's space. If the findings were accurate, Voyager had entered alien space two months ago and the only way to go around meant the loss of a month of time in their journey. But the planet was directly in front of them, another two weeks away. To stay on course seemed to him to court unnecessary risk and possible disaster. Janeway disagreed.

They sent out a long range probe to investigate the planet. It came back with a report of incomprehensible devastation. There was no life; it had been bombed to ruins.

Janeway stayed on course.

He needed, badly, to understand her approach to the problem. Since they'd connected because of Kolopac, command decisions had seemed to flow easily between them. This was the first real rough spot they'd been through. He didn't like it. It wasn't that he was unwilling to confront her; that was his job, after all. His problem was that he wished he didn't have to.

He finally decided to question her directly at their end-of-shift review, but she beat him to the set up. At 1500 that day, she called him into the Ready Room. She was standing by the replicator when he walked in.

"Have a seat, Chakotay. Coffee?" She motioned towards the couch. He sat down, accepted the coffee, and waited for her to begin. He hadn't expected the informal setting she'd put together.

Janeway sat down next to him. "Commander, I owe you an explanation. "

He took a sip of coffee, surprised. He said, carefully, "You don't owe me anything, Captain, but I would like to understand what you're thinking."

She responded. "And I'd like to know I have your complete cooperation."

He shook his head, irritated that she would question him on that, but she interrupted. "You have every right to be worried about this. And I know you are. It's the XO's prerogative to question the strategy of command decisions prior to engaging the enemy." She looked at him, ironically. "Reg. 387, if I remember correctly."

She turned away. "Seriously, the fact that you haven't brought it up yet is reason enough for me to know that you're very worried."

He stayed silent, waiting. She continued. "You're right, of course. To take the ship into clearly dangerous territory, for only a month's advantage in a journey of 67 years, is illogical, fool hardy, and possibly even a court-martial offense in the Alpha quadrant. It's not even typical of my command strategy in the Delta quadrant. I've been willing to adjust course, in situations with the Kazons and others, to avoid challenges before."

He looked at her carefully. "Yes, you have."

She shrugged. "Of course, this situation is even more questionable. For all we know, the unknowns could be responsible for the destruction of the planet and we're headed into a trap."

"There is that possibility."

She looked back at him seriously. "You don't believe that any more than I do."

He took a drink of the coffee. "Of course not."

She smiled. "Of course not. Chakotay, the data from the probe is sketchy, but the radiation levels around the planet indicate that the destruction probably occurred close to a hundred years ago. If the unknowns were responsible, we'd see some sign of activity from them as conquerors. There's nothing."

He knew all of that. He added the rest of the logic. "The firepower necessary to cause destruction of that magnitude isn't consistent with the firepower that's been directed at Voyager. Even if the planet's destroyers had left a defense force, it would have been larger than what's been sent out against us and more powerful. So, it follows that whoever has been attacking Voyager did not destroy the planet."

She shook her head in the affirmative. "Exactly."

He continued, "The most likely explanation is that the remotes are left over from the planet's original defense system."

She took a sip of her coffee. "I agree."

He turned to her and commented, exasperated, "All of which means we ought to get out of this space, Captain. We don't know how many of those automated monsters are left, but the likelihood is that as we get closer to the planet, we'll run into them with increasing frequency. It's an unnecessary risk."

She said, calmly, "I agree that we'll engage them again. It's inevitable."

"Then let's get ..."

"I'm not done, Chakotay. What I don't agree with is the idea that the remotes have been abandoned, or that they're operating on their own. There's something controlling them; there's a malevolence behind the attacks. I can feel it. It's there."

He stared at her, confused. "How do you know that?"

He watched Janeway consider the question. She finally shook her head. "There's nothing I can point to specifically. But think about it. When the planet was destroyed, the ships should have turned into relics, adrift in space without orders. Instead, they're operating with incredible efficiency. Someone has to have fixed them."

"Captain, they could have been programmed to operate without any connections to the homeworld. We haven't been able to dissect a large enough chunk of one to understand the technology."

She got up and began to pace the room. "No. The strategy's too good, Chakotay. The last two attacks were too well designed. They were intelligent and coordinated. No technology's that good; especially not a hundred year old unrepaired technology. Someone is controlling them. Someone's running the remotes. Someone's out there."

He considered the plausibility of her hypothesis. "All right. Let's assume that it's possible someone is orchestrating the attacks. That's all the more reason to get out of this space. If some scavengers have come to pick the bones, they aren't going to want us hanging around."

She rejected his supposition. "They're not scavengers. There's nothing on that planet worth attacking us for. No. The only logical conclusion is that someone's targeting us deliberately. They've gone to the trouble of three separate attacks. They're not going to stop now, whatever course we take. And they're evil, Chakotay, and they're malevolent. We have to stop them. The only way to do that is to understand what's on that planet. The attacks and the planet's destruction are connected, and we have to learn why."

He stared at her. "That's where we disagree, Captain. We don't need to know any of that, we just need to get past this area of space. I can live, and will probably live a lot longer, if I never meet an unknown again."

He tried again. "Captain, it's interesting, but your theory is just that - theory. You have no proof for any of it. The safest course is to get out of the way, as fast as possible. Why are you so sure anyone's out there?"

He paused, and then took the risk. "There's something you're not admitting. I need to understand. I need the truth about this."

She finally sat down next to him, and grabbed his hand. "The truth? It's a hell of a thing to ask, Chakotay, but I suppose you deserve an answer. It's a gut instinct."

She paused and then said it again more firmly. " I have a gut instinct about this. I can't explain, but I *know* someone's out there, planning and watching. And my gut tells me that if we run, they'll follow; and if we run, we'll die. They're probably waiting at the boarders of the space, prepared to take us down, having predicted that that's what we'll do. It's what I'd do if I wanted to take someone out. So, we have to change the rules of the game. We have to do the unexpected. We have to go to the planet. Can you live with that?"

He thought about it. "Yes. I can. I understand it; I've ordered missions because of gut instincts myself."

She looked at him questioningly. "But-"

"But I wish my gut was in agreement with yours on this one." He put down the coffee cup. "All right, let's take this one step farther. You may be right. We may get to the planet and find the aliens responsible for the attack, and do something about them. I assume you have plan for that."

She shrugged. He shook his head and sighed. "All right, so we'll play it as it comes." His mind started running through scenarios, calculating the probable problems and tactical options they had. He stayed silent, and finally gave it up. "There's too many variables. You're right. We'll have to play it out when we get there."

He continued, " But I may be right as well. There may be nothing there. The probe didn't find anything and my view's actually the most likely scenario. So here's the question. If there's nothing on the planet we can identify, will you leave this space as fast as possible?"

She looked away, saying nothing. The silence unnerved him. Finally, she commented, "I'll make that decision when we see what's there."

He'd been afraid she was going to argue the point. He'd been right. He tried again. " We don't need to stop them, and we don't need to know who they are. We just need to get through this space. You can't control all of it, Captain. Sometimes, we'll never know the end of a story."

She looked back at him, her expression serious. "Not until we get there, Chakotay. I won't make the choice until then. But if your scenario comes to pass, I promise I will seriously consider your recommendation. Are we agreed?"

He stood up, looked away for a moment, and then turned and shook his head in the affirmative. He didn't like what she had planned. But the situation was better than when he'd walked in the door to the Ready Room. At least now he understood and could accept her reasoning. It was a resolution of sorts. He felt better for the discussion.

Section 5

Even though he'd been able to reconcile some of his professional concerns about the Captain's decisions, Chakotay saw no such resolution on the horizon in their personal relationship. Their interactions were disjointed and unbalanced. His knew his behavior was erratic; his mood unpredictable. He'd leave for long periods of time in the early evening only to return later, unable to stay away. He stayed silent, afraid whatever he said would be the wrong thing to say. He started turning out the lights at night, so she couldn't see what was in his eyes and he didn't have to recognize what was missing from hers.

Kathryn didn't seem to notice any of it.

He caught himself scrutinizing her movements, looking for anything that might indicate she'd changed her mind. And he found himself trying to prove to her, silently, that their connection was irrevocable and absolute. He knew his actions were clearly disastrous, but he couldn't seem to stop. He wanted permanence, a commitment, a lifelong partnership. Kathryn had taught him to think about the future again because of Kolopac. Now he wanted more. He wanted a future for them all, together. And he knew she'd never agree.

It was a discussion he was going to lose, and it was a discussion that was inevitable. He felt like he was in the Maquis again.

The inevitable happened five days later, after he and Kolopac had come back from a typical stint in the gym. While he exercised, Kolopac was adorized. The crew was very good at taking care of the child. It was soothing. Whatever else might happen, he knew that Kolopac would make his way.

He could tell Janeway was angry when he walked in the door of his quarters. She ignored his greeting, and gestured towards the terminal in front of her. "What is this?"

He looked down at the program she was analyzing, and damned himself for leaving it anywhere that she could find it.

He said, as calmly as he could, " That? It's nothing important; just something I work on occasionally. As Kolopac gets older, he's going to need more room. It's a schematic of our quarters."

He tried to divert her. "How did you find it?" He reached around her to delete the file before she could realize precisely how he had set up the design.

She'd already figured out the design. "Chakotay, I won't live with you and I won't let you even think about redesigning my quarters. You agreed to discretion."

He looked down at Kolopac, avoiding her gaze, dreading the conversation to come. He tried to keep his tone matter of fact. "Kathryn, he can't sleep in the living room forever. As he gets older, he's going to need space of his own."

He handed her the child, and turned to the bedroom. "I need to get cleaned up. Why don't you put him down for his nap?"

She wasn't going to let go. It was obvious. "We need to discuss this."

"I'll be back in a while." He walked away, not yet ready to face the discussion. He showered, giving her time to cool down, and giving himself time to prepare for the confrontation ahead. When he returned, she was sitting next to Kolopac's crib, watching the child sleep.

He looked at her carefully. She was calmer, but he didn't like the look of resignation in her eyes. She said, "I know we'll have to do something about room for Kolopac eventually. But your design involved combining my quarters with yours. I can't permit that."

He grimaced, trying to focus on the first part of her statement rather than the implications of the last. "Kathryn, you're the one who told me we need to think about Kolopac's future. What were you planning to do?"

She didn't answer him. Her silence disturbed him more than anything she could have said.

He sat down on the couch and tried to force her to talk to him. "There's barely enough room in here for the three of us now, along with the ready room you've set up. We need the space. Yours is going to waste."

When she finally said something, it was short and to the point. "I can't live with you."

He felt anger pulse through him and then recede, leaving resignation in its wake. But he wasn't going to let her leave it there.

"I know what's missing, but I won't let you deny what *is* between us. And what's real is that you're already living with me."

When she started to disagree, he interrupted. "Look around you. You took over my workstation .. two, no nearly three months ago. Your jacket's laying on the bed in the other room. There are coffee cups and padds all over this room, and your hairbrush is over on the table by the replicator. You're here every evening; you spend the majority of your free time, whatever that means, working here pretending to relax. The proof's here, Kathryn. And you know it. Why are you trying to deny it?"

She didn't answer him again. He watched as she sat silently, her left hand clutching. It wasn't a good sign.

He tried another tactic. "As for the rest, what makes you think the crew doesn't already know? Or that they even care about what we do? Personally, I think over half of them are rooting for us."

She turned back and looked at him. "Hell. What makes you say that?"

He shrugged. "The very *lack* of gossip. There's been nothing. Think about it, Kathryn. We're together a great deal, so much so that the crew expects me to know where you are at any given moment. But there hasn't been a word, an innuendo, a strange look. Nothing. We are being discrete. But so are they. It's almost unheard of on a ship this size."

"How long?"

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, suddenly tired of all of it. "I don't know. I don't even know for sure if they've put it together yet, given the situation with Kolopac, but it seems likely."

"I can't do this."

"Why not?"

When she didn't answer him again, he tried to argue what he suspected was the problem. "Kathryn, you wouldn't loose control of anything, not the ship, not command structure, anything, if our relationship became known. They already know, at least in my opinion, and I think they'd be easier with it if it was in the open. Our being together has helped the command situation, not hindered it. Nothing that's happened between us has undermined your authority, or the respect of the crew towards command. It's personal, not professional. We can keep it separate and so can they."

It was the wrong argument.

"I know that. That's never been at issue, Chakotay."

He could hear the apology in her voice when she spoke again. "The point is that I don't want to publicly acknowledge a relationship we both know is temporary."

He felt the words wash over him, jarring and ironic in their stark contrast to what he wanted to hear. He thought he'd prepared himself. He'd been mistaken. He couldn't accept her decision without trying to change her mind.

"Then let's make it permanent. That's what this is really about. I don't care if we keep what's between us quiet or not. The real issue is that you're using the argument about discretion to keep me out, to stop what we do have from getting more serious, and to avoid a commitment. It's not necessary, Kathryn. We can have anything we want, tear down the walls and build anything we want to."

"Chakotay, you agreed to the limits we set on this." As he listened to her, he realized that her calm, regretful tone was far more cutting than her anger would have been.

He stared at her. "I don't understand why you've set them. I want a future where you and Kolopac and I are together. I want to build something permanent between us."

She looked away. "I thought we were both content. What's wrong with what we have now?"

He rubbed his hands over his face trying to put together the words to explain. Then he reached out and grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at him.

"Nothing. Everything. How do I explain? I want to wake up with you, not just once someday because you've accidentally fallen asleep, but with you next to me for the rest of my life. I want to be able to hold you and not worry that you'll pull back the next day. I want to leave the lights on, make love to you, and not call it sex. I want to know you're there, and that you'll let me be there for you, no matter what."

"Kathryn, you've compartmentalized it all. Friendship, a physical relationship, companionship; we have them all but there's no connection together. You won't let there be. Let go of the worry. Let what we have now take us wherever it will, into a future I think we both want. We could have a real partnership and a life together, if you'd just give it a chance."

She pulled her hands away gently. "I can't. I'm sorry, Chakotay. I wish it could be different, but it can't be."

He looked away from her, trying to think through her comment. It was the answer he expected, but he needed more to understand. "Can you at least tell me why? "

She turned, clearly disquieted. "I suppose I owe you that. The only way to control this is to separate... what was the word you used?... to compartmentalize the roles."

"I know that's what you think, but I don't understand why, Kathryn. Tell me. Please."

He could see the determination in her expression as she answered him. "I can't make a commitment knowing it will end soon."

"Why are you so sure it would ?"

" Chakotay, we both know that one of us is going to die out here. You're at 87% probability. I'm nearly there myself. I can't start something under conditions like that. It would be irresponsible."

She grimaced and ran her hand over her temple, looking away. "Check the Starfleet lifespan projections yourself. Being in the Delta quadrant, alone for so long, has nearly doubled the risk for Command."

He couldn't take in the implications of her words. He concentrated on the simple interpretation . "Kathryn, checking the stats is just standard procedure to identify new variables and adjust accordingly. I've run them myself; the numbers themselves don't matter."

She shook her head, and he tried again to explain. " There's no difference between here and the Alpha quadrant. Maybe the stats say the risks are double, but the basic problem's the same. Everyone on a command track knows the uncertainty of being Command before they start." He sat back, thinking, and shrugged. "The lifespan in the Maquis was even more precarious. By those numbers, I'm well past my options."

"Chakotay, you can't ignore the projections. There are two hundred years of calculations from Starfleet encounters in hostile space backing them up. The closest parallel to Voyager's situation was the early exploration in the 22nd century. The only command crew that made it back intact was Kirk's; in fact, his was the only ship that made it back. And they had safe stations to repair along the way."

She was intent on making the point, breaking in before he had a chance to reply. She stood up, pulled him over to the terminal, and then pulled up the files. "The numbers *do* matter. Look at the data. There are over forty different variables; the number of away missions we've led, hostile encounters, and on. I've run the data adjusting variables, god, probably a hundred times. The results are always the same. The truth is we're already bucking the odds." She sighed. "The only variable that makes any difference is who leads the away teams, and even that just changes the probability of which one of us is going to die."

He tried to think beyond the details, into the implications of her comments. "Kathryn, you're using the stats as a talisman, a way to predestine the future, almost as an analogy to fate. Fate isn't a terminal disease. It doesn't chip away each day at a dream. It's your attitude, the choices you make that do that. You choose. Death is just part of the cycle. You can't change it. It happens with everything eventually. What we're talking about isn't death; it's about life. It's about connections, and partnerships, and living. The numbers don't matter."

When she didn't reply, he ventured another question. " I don't understand your fatalism about this. Less than a month ago, you confronted me about not having planned a future for Kolopac. I listened, then. And I learned to agree with you. Now, you're denying us a chance of a future. I don't understand."

She walked back to the child and sat down again, staring at him. "Kolopac may make it back. The odds on the ship getting home aren't terrific, and the longer we're out here the worse they are, but it is possible. He is the future, Chakotay. He's probably the only one either of us have."

He shook his head, still trying to absorb her view. It was clear he couldn't convince her to see the statistics as less than an absolute. But it shouldn't matter to the conversation. "All right, let's say you're correct, that the lifespan projections are accurate. They're still just data, Kathryn. The projections have nothing to do with how we choose to live now."

She looked up at him. "They have everything to do with it. The probability that all of this is temporary impacts how we live on a daily basis. We have to act responsibly knowing what the future will bring. We can't just let the situation develop without thinking of the consequences. We have to change the parameters, and control the outcomes."

He let her continue, listening. "To do what you ask is like starting a relationship with someone with , to use your analogy, a terminal disease; like living with Hitakean hematoma, like watching a cancer grow. You wait, and watch, and expect the blow to fall. And because of that, everyday another piece of what you do have falls apart, physically and emotionally, no matter how hard you try to change it."

She looked away. "I could do it somewhere else, and I'd be willing to try." She looked back at him. "But I can't here, not with Voyager to see to. Not even on a day to day basis. The pieces would dissolve even as we began to build; every day, as another piece connected, another would break beyond repair. I wouldn't be able to concentrate when Voyager needed me. I'd be trying to figure it out."

He damned himself for even starting her off on the comparison, but he had to follow it through. "Even within that analogy, we can do something. We can stop the cancer, recognize the signs and cut out the pieces. So even if you're right about the stats, we could still find ways to live within those parameters, and take each day at a time. We can live within the givens, we can make this work, even if it's just for a time."

She shook her head. "I can't take that chance. We have to change the conditions, and set the parameters ourselves. We can't allow the connection. It would be irresponsible to walk into the emotional implications of a relationship blind, ignoring the ramifications and what they entail. We have to decide what we can tolerate. It's the only rational approach. And I know I can't take the chance of an emotional connection. I have Voyager to look to now and in the aftermath as well. I have to be focused and impartial to do that."

"Damn it, Kathryn, even if the stats are your religion, we can work within the constructs and find a path."

" We have to change the constructs, take action by choosing a different path, and a different direction. I can make the choice, and I'm choosing."

"Machiavellian. But this time you're wrong. You've never been a philosopher. It's not your strong point."

She broke in. "Chakotay, you know I'm right. And it's not just about the present, about what we do each day, it's about the aftermath as well. The loss of a life partner would be at worst, devastating, and at best, distracting. Neither of us could afford that. We need to think clearly if Voyager is going to survive."

He was going to lose her. He could see it now. " It doesn't follow that losing a partner would constitute that much of a risk to who you are now. We've both lost people before and survived. "

She shook her head, but he broke in, determined to make his point." Kathryn, I've read your file. I know about your father and your fiancé, and I know you took a three month leave after the accident. I can't fight ghosts, and I can't change the past. But it's in the past. You're different. You've changed. You were a twenty -three year old ensign when they died. It was well over fifteen years ago."

She walked to Kolopac, still sleeping, and stroked his head. "I know that. And I know what that experience taught me. I haven't forgotten who and what I am. And what I am is a Starfleet Captain, who was at Wolf 459, and who lost half of my command team getting to this quadrant. I know what it takes to get though that. I've lived it. I can't put myself at risk. "

He tried grasping any argument that came to mind. "What about Mark? You took that risk."

"Mark wasn't dangerous - in a- "

"Not dangerous to you; and he wasn't in a dangerous profession. " He sighed. "Never mind, I get the picture. I never thought I'd feel sorry for the guy and I never dreamed I hoped you'd give me a different answer."

He tried to make sense of her comments, to understand her. It clicked, suddenly. He saw the pattern in the scientific distance, the day to day attitude of checking one incident, and only one incident at a time. All captains had to deal with the death of crew. Janeway dealt with it in her own way. She didn't use generalities, or religion, or immerse herself in philosophy to justify her actions. She maintained the distance by compartmentalizing, by not acknowledging or developing connections.

"Kathryn, you can exist, but you can't live like this. 'Control' is a placebo you're lying to yourself about. Please, think about it. Live now, here, with me. Maybe we can buck the odds, even if it's only for a while."

When she stayed silent, he tried again. "Think about what you're saying practically. You've built this wall between us not because you don't care but because you expect me to die in the near future. You don't want to watch it, and you don't think you can deal with the aftermath. It's the coward's way out."

" Call it what you want. The data's there. You can't hide from it. No one can."

" Kathryn, by your calculations, I should have been dead years ago, and none of us would be in the Delta quadrant."

"Not true. There's a very high statistical probability that someone would have landed here. Although Voyager was just random chance. Chakotay, I hold Voyager. I can't take the risk. If we weren't here, I might be willing to try to live with the probabilities. But not under these circumstances, not now."

He shook his head and turned away. "There's no way to get through to you like this. I can't believe you're doing this; throwing away what we could have because of how you might react."

She paused for a long time, not looking at him. "I never expected to have to have this conversation. I thought, you, out of anyone, would understand, given your past and the Maquis."

He felt suddenly bitter. "Is that was this has been about? I was conveniently available with a bad enough past that I wouldn't expect anything more?"

She flinched. "Don't trivialize, Chakotay. You know it's not that simple. I can't do what you ask, that's all."

He looked away as well, finally accepting the inevitable, and felt the anger burn itself out and resignation set in. "No, I know that you can't. I understand why now. You've told me repeatedly, and you've shown me repeatedly, that you don't want a commitment, or any permanence. You've never lied about it; not ever. I get it now. It's just not a choice you want to pursue. I understand, finally. I'm sorry it took me so long."

She sighed. "What happens now?"

He looked back at her, surprised. "You're asking me?"

"The decision's in your court, Chakotay. I can't change about this. I can't offer anything else, not now, not here. You need to decide what you can live with."

He was silent and finally said, "I need some time, Kathryn. I don't have any answers for you right now. "

When she looked up at him, concerned, he grimaced. " Don't worry about it, Kathryn. I'm 'under control'. We've both survived far worse than the possible breakup of an affair. After what we've been though out here, it hardly seems worth getting worked up about."

He sat there, silent, for a long time, then continued." We don't even need to rearrange Kolopac's schedule while I'm working it out. You can still keep him four nights a week; I'll take the rest. It won't affect our working relationship; nothing has really changed there throughout this whole mess."

"I'm sorry, Chakotay. I wish it could be different."

"I know. I understand. I wish I didn't. Then there might be some hope. But I won't bring it up again."

He thought of the irony that something as simple as redesigning the quarters had resulted in an irrevocable barrier between them. He looked at the wall, and realized suddenly that even with everything they'd been through together, he'd only been in her quarters twice, both times when he'd been formally invited. The wall was there, literal, and real. It always had been. She'd been telling him all along and he'd been lying to himself about it. He couldn't believe he'd been so blind.

He stopped the thought. "It's going to take me some time to adjust, a while to pull back and be comfortable. But I'll get there."

"I'd like that." She got up to leave, gathering her brush and sweater with her.

The calm, controlled movements angered him. He couldn't stop himself from saying, "I'm sorry, Kathryn. I can't help loving you. I wish I could. It might make this easier."

He sat down on the couch, his hands between his knees, staring at the wall, watching as she left through the connecting door without breaking stride.

He looked back at his son. The child, Kathryn's vision and his own hope for the future, had slept through it all.

Section 6

Chakotay spent the first hour after Kathryn left wallowing in self pity. That done, which he decided was frankly a relief to finally get over with, he spent the next hour getting a grip, thinking through the problem, and planning.

Point one: Kathryn was correct about the statistics. He should be dead. He was certainly on any hit list of probability that might be out there. He'd always known that. He'd known it when she'd offered him the job of XO; that's what had made the whole situation so ironic at the time. He'd figured that *she'd* figured he wouldn't make it through a year and it was an easy out for her. XO dead. It happened a lot. Then she'd started taking more of the away missions herself. He'd been irritated at the time, attributing her actions to lack of trust, but he realized now that she'd just been trying to even up the odds a bit. He finally understood why she'd done it.

Point two: Kathryn was incorrect in her rationalization of her fatalism. In the Alpha quadrant, he would have caught the signs of battle fatigue earlier. He smiled to himself and corrected the thought; perhaps he would have. The truth was that in his Starfleet positions in the Alpha quadrant, he wouldn't have recognized the signs. It took a stint in the Maquis to understand that kind of stress. The reason he'd missed it in the Delta quadrant was that he'd still been wallowing in it himself.

Technically, they were a bad mix. A Maquis captain tired from fighting impossible odds and a Federation captain with no backup for years facing the unknown everyday should have been a disastrous combination.

And yet, he was probably the only XO in the galaxy who could understand what she was feeling. And she was the only captain who could have helped him trust in the future again. She'd done that for him, whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not. He needed to return the favor. Kathryn had forgotten how to hope. It wasn't surprising, given how long they'd been out there alone.

It also wasn't surprising that she was trying to control her environment; she was tired of facing the unknown day after day. She'd lost her sense of adventure, interest in experimentation and willingness to challenge. She wanted answers, and she wanted to be in control. He sympathized, and at the same time knew it was a disastrous combination for Voyager and for them together. But he understood her emotions. He'd felt them himself in the Maquis. It'd taken Kathryn at her best to help him remember there were other ways of thinking and other options. He needed to help her do the same.

Point three: They'd been playing parisie squares for months now in their personal interactions, maneuvering around each other and working towards what they thought were appropriate goals for the other. She'd had the upper hand initially helping him understand Kolopac and his connection to the child; he'd had it later, with Karpekov and the experiments. They had been learning to help each other then. It wasn't until the aftermath on Ginn's planet that he'd let her take control of what was possible. It was time to reallocate the balance. He owed it to both of them. And this time, he was going to make sure the weight of responsibility was evenly distributed. They had to learn to complement each other and to work and learn together on a personal level. And he was going to make that happen.

The problem, of course, was that Kathryn was unbelievably stubborn. It was going to take a while. He had to plan strategy and prepare for a siege. She'd admitted more to him than she'd realized during the conversation. He smiled, and began planning.

He walked through the connecting door between their quarters, unannounced, an hour later, with Kolopac. He put the child down on the floor, letting him explore the space, and then stood up again.

He could tell Kathryn was startled by the interruption. She was at her desk, but suddenly stopped working. He could see her consider whether to confront him on the invasion, and saw when she decided against it.

She grimaced, and then treated his presence as a casual detail. She looked back at the terminal. "I can't find anything. The Engineering reports must still be on the padd in the ready, well, in your quarters... anyway, I was working on them there earlier today."

He smiled. "They are. I can get them if you need them."

"No. It doesn't matter. I can get them later." She stood up and walked away from the terminal. She bent down to say hello to Kolopac, who was crawling around the floor, exploring delightedly, and then stood up again and walked over to the replicator. "Coffee?"

When he shook his head in the affirmative, she programmed them both a cup and them gestured for him to sit down. "Why are you here, Chakotay? "

He looked at her carefully and got to the point. "I haven't come to long term decision yet, if that's what you're asking."

She walked over to the viewscreen, looking out. " I can't go over this again."

"I know that. Kathryn, I lived for so long in the Maquis I'd forgotten what it felt like to take the Starfleet life projections seriously. I'm sorry about that. I thought you should know."

She looked back at him seriously. "It's not going to change anything."

He shrugged. "I didn't expect it to. Actually, I'm here to discuss a different kind of proposal, or rather, an invitation."

She gestured at him to continue, her expression suspicious, and he smiled. "It's simple, Kathryn. I think we both need some down time, that's all. You once asked me if I wanted to see San Francisco again, and I told you no. But there is one place on Earth I would like to see again."

When she didn't interrupt, he continued. "I think I mentioned it before, a long time ago. I have a holoprogram of the canyons. I thought Kolopac should see it, and thought you might like to come along."

She considered his words, rejecting the apparent superficiality of the request. " This is some sort of Maquis maneuver, isn't it? I'm not playing."

He shook his head. "Neither am I. Kathryn, think about it. We need to get back some normality while I'm figuring this out. Some down time together with Kolopac is a reasonable way to do that. Consider the alternative. We play the dramatic tragedy, interrupting the crew, command protocol, and process while we're tiptoeing around each other. That sounds stupid and impossible."

She sighed. "I'd have to agree with that."

He smiled ironically at her, joking. "What did you expect I'd do? Engage in sixty years of trauma? Not my style. "

She shook her head. "The hell it isn't. You've gotten so used to playing the tragic hero I still don't believe you're serious."

He laughed, amused at the thought. "Believe it. And for what it's worth, you're doing a great job on the tragic hero role yourself - alone against all odds and all that garbage."

She was silent, and finally smiled at him. " I suppose you've got a point there. I've been getting bored with it myself. You swear you're not using this as a way to go over all of it again? "

"Kathryn, it's a simple request. I just want you to come with me to the canyons. We never did get a chance to explore them with everything going on. I'll even make dinner."

She looked at him carefully. What she saw in his expression must have reassured her. "You're on. I could use some 'normal' right now. "

"Finally. Meet me in holodeck 2, twenty minutes. Civilian clothes, but plan for a pretty rough hike. Boots." He got up, retrieved his son, and left through the connecting door before she had a chance to change her mind. The siege had begun.

It was another world, beautiful, wild, and quiet. The scene was a few hours before sunset, and the light in the canyons was crisp and sheer. The shadows created their own abstract paintings on the immense rock walls. The colors of the canyon were deep and distinct. There were streaks of brilliant gold lights where the late afternoon rays still shimmered on the land. On the walls there were deep black crevasses, where shadow had created an early night against the rocks. And the reds and orange of sunset sent an ethereal glow over it all. The canyon was immense, slick rock vying with the sand on the bottom. A small stream with rushing water cut through the center, serving as a lifeline for the orange and gold cottonwoods that perched along the sides, elegantly beautiful in their fall display.

"Chakotay, it's incredible."

He smiled at her enthusiasm. He adjusted Kolopac's position in his backpack and then gestured downstream. "Come on. I want to show you something."

For the next hour, they hopped boulders and shuffled over flat banks of sand. They stopped often to scope out routes through the rock falls. Sometimes they ended up crawling through small spaces, at others, they decided climbing up and over the barrier was the only alternative. All the while, the sun slowly set, spreading a mantle of gold and red color over the land.

The lower part of the canyon was already in darkness when she saw their destination, a perfect ruin, a city created out of rock, in a cavern nearly three hundred feet above them. It was an impenetrable fortress in the wilderness, and yet, a bastion of light, a monument to a humanity, in the growing darkness.

Kathryn was silent, taking in the scene. "This is amazing."

"Yes. I understand. The first time I saw it , it was about this time of night. The colors make it look like it's on fire, like a beacon and a warning. It was brilliant, tactically. They must have known it would put fear into the hearts of the enemy, and yet send a welcoming signal to friends."

He walked over to the edge of the canyon wall. "Come on. We can go up into it. Watch the footing. It's tough, this time of night, as most of the stair is in shadow."

They climbed a shallow hand-hewn ladder cut out of the rock, steps to the ruin that were so unobtrusive that they were difficult to distinguish even when on them. Then they reached the enclave. As they walked through the rooms, he described what life had been like; the purpose of the kivas, the paintings on the walls of rooms, the pottery, storage areas. And he told her about the civilization, and what was known of it's people.

"We need to go down now. The light's leaving, and I've set up camp below."

By the time they reached the campsite, it was completely dark. He lit a fire he'd prepared earlier. " I have dinner planned. Have a rock, and relax." He took Kolopac carefully off of his back, and handed her the child. He found a bottle. "Feed him for me, will you, Kathryn? I need to get dinner going."

As he worked, she sat back against the rock, feeding his son. "He was amazingly good on this trip. The country must agree with him." She looked up night sky. "The stars -

"-are extraordinary. I know. I don't think there's another place on earth that I remember where they were quite so brilliant. But wait until the moon comes out."

The sat there quietly, listening to the fire crackle and the sounds in the distance as he prepared the meal. When Kolopac was finished eating, she set him next to her on some blankets he's prepared and let the child sleep. He glanced away and back at the fire. He could feel her eyes on his back, as he worked, but he ignored her, concentrating on the simple activity of preparing a meal on an open fire.

He finally looked up and over at her. "Dinner's ready. I hope you don't mind, but it's a bit of tradition again. Turkey for you. Personally, I'm having the squash and corn. I've added some spices, but still - it's what you'd be given if you were a visitor."

A full moon rose while they ate in silent companionship. He looked up and saw the display of the light on the rocks. The ruins were bathed in it's glow, an alabaster city shining in the darkness.

"Look now, Kathryn. I think they must have planned it. It's surreal to see, standing out like that in the darkness, a city floating in the night sky, ghostly, pale, shimmering in and out as the sky darkens. With the sounds of a population, it must have been imposing and frightening to strangers."

"It's beautiful, Chakotay. I had no idea there was anything like it on earth. I see now why you sent so much time here."

"It wasn't just the ruins I came for. It was the canyons' austere beauty and their peace that brought me here. Sometime we'll have to come here in the day. I think you'd enjoy it." He turned the conversation to practical matters, looking down at their dinner. "Finished?"

"Yes, thanks." He took the remains and began to clean up the utensils using water from the stream. Kolopac shifted, and she sat up and picked the child up in one arm. She used her other hand to start rubbing the back of her neck.

He watched her awkward movements for a moment, and then finally decided to help. He sat down behind her, leaned back against the boulder, and pulled her into his arms, moving his hands to her shoulders.

She sat up . "Chakotay, we haven't worked anything out."

He sighed and continued rubbing her neck. " Kathryn, I know you intend to be stiff-necked about your stance in this, but if you're going to follow through literally, even you'd have to agree you're being ridiculous. We'll work it all out eventually."

"Uhmm."

He smiled. "I know. I'm impossible." He paused and then continued. " So are you. I've done this a hundred times. Once more won't matter. Now relax and quit squirming." She finally settled down and he could feel the muscles in her neck begin to relax. "Better?"

"Yes, thanks." She leaned back against him. He put his arms around her and Kolopac, and quietly stared into the fire.

Kathryn broke the silence. "Chakotay, what happened to them?"

"To the Anasazi? No one knows."

She looked back at him cynically, shifting slightly. He held onto her. She finally commented, resigned, "This is the start of another one of your parables again, isn't it?"

He laughed. "No, I swear. I'm far less devious than you give me credit for. Although now that you mention it, I suppose there are some interesting parallels. Of course, the ancient ones didn't plan to leave a legacy for humanity, they just built something to make their lives better. I doubt they planned their buildings to be symbols for the future generations of what humanity can accomplish against impossible odds. There's no real proof that they believed in an after life, or thought much about the future."

"You've got to be wrong about that, Chakotay. The evidence is in the building design. There's plenty of room for expansion for future generations in the way they've constructed the living area and evidence that they expected the generations to hold together."

He smiled. "I suppose you're right, Kathryn. Perhaps they did have hope for the future. It was a grand experiment that failed, of course, although still had meaning in the end."

She shook her head and laughed. "Is that the end of the parable?"

When he nodded, she smiled. "Thank the stars."

They sat there listening to the night after that. He thought she'd fallen asleep, but she looked up when she heard the sounds in the distance. "What's that?'

"Coyote. Sounds like a small pack. They might have made a kill, it's difficult to say for sure. Or maybe they're just talking to the moon. I'd forgotten how beautiful it is here, with the moon so full, and the quiet, except for the sounds of the stream and the wildlife. I haven't looked at this program in years."

"Why ? It's beautiful. I'd have thought you'd want to come here often."

He shrugged, remembering. "I don't know why. I suppose it was because of the memories. I came here right after I'd been to Danab V. I spent two weeks in the canyons, making the decision to leave Starfleet, coping with my family's death."

"I see. I'm sorry, Chakotay. I hope this isn't bringing back too many painful memories."

"No, somehow it's cleansing to see it again. That part is over now; it's in the past. "

He thought about his family and then put the memories aside. It was time to start the discussion he'd intended. " Kathryn, if I do die out here, I've made some plans for Kolopac. I've left you his guardian . I want him to understand his heritage, but you're right that he's the one who should choose his future. I'd like you to help him understand his choices."

She shifted in his arms, looking down at the child. "I promise I will. But Chakotay, I probably won't make it back either."

He rested his chin in her hair. "I know you think that. So, I've put in a contingency plan. If you don't survive, I've assigned Tuvok and B'Elanna as joint guardians. If Tuvok, B'Elanna, you and I all don't make it back, chances are Kolopac won't either."

"Tuvok and B'Elanna?" She sighed. "That's creative. Why them?"

"Tuvok understands the importance of tradition and heritage. And he and his family are respected in the Federation. B'Elanna understands the difficulty of being from two diverse cultures. Each will be able to help him when the time comes."

"You've thought about it a lot, I see."

He smiled. "Yes, I have."

He paused, and then started into his plan. "What will you do when you get home, assuming you do, of course?" When she didn't say anything, he asked again. "It's possible you might, Kathryn. You have to have some plans, some hope for the future. What will you do?"

She rubbed her cheek against Kolopac's head. "Sleep. Stay in Starfleet, I suppose. Insist on a desk job for at least a year. With Kolopac, maybe longer than that. See my mother, if she's still alive. All of the usual fantasies. Nothing special, Chakotay."

He finally found the courage to ask the question he'd been working up to for most of the night. "What would you do if we both make it back?"

She tried to sit up, but he held onto her. "It's just a hypothetical question, Kathryn. I know the chances are nil. What would you do?"

He thought she was going to refuse to answer him, but she finally replied, "That would depend on the situation, of course."

He pushed her for more. "Would you be willing to try then?" He held his breath, waiting to see what she'd say. Her answer, when it came, was stark and simple.

"Yes, I would."

He waited for more, trying to absorb the words. He finally asked, "That's it? No parameters, no conditions, no qualifications?"

She sighed, and finally relaxed back into him. "No, no conditions. Not even if you decided to go to Danab V. I could put together a lab, I suppose. We could build something there. It wouldn't matter what. Chakotay, it's never going to happen. There's no reason to think about it."

He smiled. "I think I'll put Stellar on double shifts. I've developed a real interest in making it back to the Alpha quadrant. It's possible Ginn can come up with a few more anomalies to play with. Who knows - maybe Harry's wormhole is out there."

She snorted. "Not likely. And we've already got them on double shifts." She paused. "You know it's all hypothetical. None of it's going to happen. I don't want you to think it makes any difference to what we need to do on Voyager."

"I understand your view, Kathryn. And I agreed not to go over it with you again. But thank you for telling me. It helps."

She moved out of his arms, and stood up, uncomfortable with the discussion. "Well, as much as I'd like to stay in the canyons, we really do need to get some sleep and Kolopac would be more comfortable in his crib."

He stood up and took his son from her. "Kathryn, there's one more thing I need to mention. When I told you I hadn't made any long term decisions, I didn't mean that I hadn't decided, temporarily, about what I need to do."

She looked back at him silently. He swallowed, and took the risk. "And I can't continue the affair right now. I can't compartmentalize as well as you do. I care too much about you now. It would be unfair to us both for me to lie about that."

She turned away from him. "I see. Well, then, I - good night, Chakotay."

He watched her leave. As the holodeck door closed behind her, he said to himself. "I hope you do see, eventually, Kathryn. I really hope you do."

He canceled the program and left the room.

At midnight, he palmed the security lock on her door, and walked into her quarters unannounced again. He left off the lights and moved towards her desk.

Kathryn walked out of the bedroom almost immediately. She stared at him as the dim light of the stars reflected throughout the room. Her expression was difficult to read, but he thought he saw some anticipation, or relief in her expression.

"Chakotay?"

He looked at her, absorbing her image. She had always seemed incredibly beautiful to him when she was disheveled, still recovering from sleep.

He smiled casually. "I didn't mean to wake you, Captain. You said you needed the Engineering reports earlier today. I thought I'd bring them in, so you'd have them in the morning. I put them on your desk."

He looked at her carefully. "I'll leave now. Was there anything else?"

She turned away. "No, of course not. Good night, Commander."

He turned and walked through the connecting door, smiling. "Good night, Kathryn." As he went to check on Kolopac, and get ready to sleep himself, he decided that for one afternoon and evening work, he'd done fairly well. He'd doubled the number of times he'd been in her quarters, managed to get her to think, even briefly, about a future for herself without, and even more amazingly, *with* him, and made a few points of his own on that question.

He smiled at his son. And he was pretty damned sure that she didn't like the idea of sleeping alone. He laughed at himself. Of course, neither did he, but one way or another, he was going to find a way to help Kathryn Janeway believe in herself and in him and learn to hope for a future again. He shook his head, and fell into the bed, exhausted.

Section 7:

Six days later Chakotay sat in his office, reviewing strategy. He took a break from focusing on the situation with the unknowns, and concentrated on a more immediate problem.

"Computer, define siege."

"Siege is the operation of reducing and capturing a fortified place by surrounding it, cutting off supplies, undermining, bringing guns to bear, bombing and other offensive operations. Siege implies surrounding a city, cutting off its communications, and usually includes direct assault on its defenses. Siege was first..."

"Stop." He sat back and stretched, putting his feet up on the desk. All right, so he hadn't resorted to the 'guns or bombing', yet, but 'cutting off communications' had a familiar ring to it. He thought about the last week. It had been simple to implement the first stage of the Janeway siege. He'd just left her alone. Very much alone.

Of course, he was polite and cheerful. And, of course, he'd been very very distant.

During off hours, he'd found ways to be unavailable. He ate meals in the mess hall with the rest of the crew and avoided her, politely, when he encountered her in Sandrines or the gym. He stayed away from his quarters when she had Kolopac or was using the space as a ready room. He avoided late evening conversations with her, claiming exhaustion. He quit asking if she'd eaten, and quit harassing her about the amount of coffee she drank. And he had no idea whether she was sleeping or not. He suspected not, or at least not a lot.

During the alpha shift, he stayed away from the Bridge. He'd had an idea about how to extend sensor range using the techniques Tuvok had perfected in Security. He'd assigned the experiment to B'Elanna and her team. He spent most of his time helping. When he wasn't in Engineering, he was in Stellar talking to Ginn about the unknowns space looking for gaps that they might be able to slip through. He spent the rest of his time in his office, reviewing tactical strategies they might be able to use when they got to the planet.

It was easy enough to be distracted. The closer they got to the planet, the more dead and quiet the space became. It was eerie, and it was unnatural.

During after-shift debriefings with Janeway he offered no opinions beyond those he had concerning the topic at hand. Their interactions were consequently shorter than when he'd first agreed to join her crew, lasting perhaps five minutes in total each time.

She didn't ask him about the change. He could tell she wanted to, he could see it in her eyes, but she chose not to address the question. He left it that way.

He thought the first stage of the siege was having some impact. But he'd always known Kathryn was stubborn. She could adjust to anything if she knew the pattern. So, there wasn't going to be a pattern. He needed to keep her off balance.

He needed to implement stage two: offensive operations and a direct assault on defense. The walls were literally going to come down by building precisely what she said she wanted. He was going to build a small space for Kolopac in her living area and move the ready room into her quarters. It would look like he was pulling back farther from her, and he'd let her think that for a few days.

Then he was going to be constantly underfoot. He wasn't going to spend another morning without her. Wake up calls and breakfasts in her quarters would be easy enough once the space was set up, and there were dozens of reasons he could use to be in and of her room. Once he'd broken through the wall, he was going to make sure it never got repaired.

Of course, she was going to be very annoyed. It was inevitable. He looked at the file of materials he'd allocated to the project and held his breath for a moment. Then he ordered the transport to his quarters.

Talking to B'Elanna was next. He needed to ensure her cooperation. He smiled at the thought. He suspected that after the last week, B'Elanna would be willing to accommodate any request he made, provided he got out of her hair. But he also knew that she, out of anyone on Voyager with the possible exception of Janeway, knew him too well. She was going to be trouble unless he end-ran her questions. He closed down his station and went down to Engineering.

Chakotay located B'Elanna in one of the smaller bays, working on the sensors project. He sat down on the console next to her workstation, and looked down at her casually.

She didn't look up. "Are you back *again*? Go away, Chakotay. I swear we'll have it up for you in three hours if you just *go away*."

He smiled. "B'Elanna, I'm the XO. I get to hover wherever I feel inclined. It's in the regs."

She finally looked up at him, exasperated. "What is it with you, lately? Hover, my ass... more like micromanage me to death. Go somewhere else. Go play with Ginn. He's constitutionally incapable of hating anyone and normally whines about not getting enough attention. Or just go play on the Bridge, or go do something useful. Preferably ANYWHERE except here."

He smiled again. " I have been working with Ginn. And you're right. He appreciates the help and the interest." His slight emphasis on the pronoun stopped her.

She stared back at him and stopped working, suddenly serious. He'd expected that. "What's going on, Chakotay? Look, you know as well as I do that you've been useful. Kahless, even I admit it was your idea and it's a good one, but this much hands on attention isn't normal. And don't tell me you're worried about the implementation. You're too cheerful. Even in the Maquis, you didn't hover this much when you were flat out paranoid. What is it?"

He shrugged. "Would you believe I'm bored?"

"No. No way. We're heading into the unknowns territory, and normally you'd be circling like a hawk on the Bridge, not hovering down here or even in Stellar."

She stopped. "That's it, isn't it? You're avoiding the Bridge. I know Janeway's been ... uh... a little terse the last few days, but that's never seemed to bother you before."

She paused, thinking. "Of course, she's never been quite this terse before."

She finished the thought. "And *you're* usually front and center when she's worried, not playing Cheshire cat all over the rest of the ship."

"B'Elanna, can't you accept that I want to help?"

She rejected the comment. "No. Not possible. You *know* I hate micromanaging. Front and center I expect, but this is getting ridiculous."

She paused again. "Now that I think about it, it's not just the Bridge you've been avoiding. You're avoiding Janeway. I haven't seen you two together in nearly a week. You've been eating with Harry, Tom and me and she's been eating alone. And in Sandrines, you've been associating with the crew, not with her."

He said mildly, "The Captain and I aren't having a command problem, B'Elanna. You're way off."

She shook her head. "I *know* that. You're too cheerful for a command problem. So, I'm asking again, what's going on?"

He looked away. "I have a favor to ask."

She stared at him suspiciously. "Uhuh. I'm waiting. Now comes the good part."

He continued. "B'Elanna, it's not that difficult, but it *is* a personal favor. I want to build a space for Kolopac and I need the plan to be kept very quiet. I've transported the materials I need to my quarters. I'll build most of it myself, but I'd like your help on some of the technical pieces and I need your ... inattention... about the allocations. "

B'Elanna blew up. "Kahless, Chakotay, you know that anyone on this ship would help you with Kolopac. We've all been thinking he needs ...*techninal* pieces?" She shook her head. " And why do you need it kept quiet?"

He waited for her to think it through. It didn't take long. "And while we're on that, why would *I* need to keep quiet about the allocations? You're the XO." She sighed. "This is some damned new plan of yours. Get it over with and put me out of my misery so I can go back to work on *your* sensor project."

He waited for her to ask the real question.

She finally came to the conclusions he'd expected. She looked up at him suspiciously, and then a smile gradually expanded over her features. "Where and what *is* this space you're planning?"

He moved over to her workstation and pulled up the specs. "Here. But I'd like to keep it as a surprise for the Captain."

B'Elanna looked over the specs, shaking her head, her smile dissolving almost instantly. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

He looked back at her seriously. "Yes. I do."

She searched his expression carefully. "Kahless, I hope so."

She stopped and looked up at him. "Chakotay, this plan doesn't combine the quarters. It separates them. I… this is none of my business, but we were all hoping it would go the other way."

He shrugged and smiled. "I can't stop speculation, B'Elanna. It's a big ship. The Captain has been helping me with Kolopac, that's all. Now that we're past the Karpekov crisis, I wanted to thank her and make sure that Kolopac has a place in her life. It'll be easier for Janeway if we set up the ready room in her own space, and have a place there for Kolopac. But I'd like to surprise her, and I'd like her to be the one to let the crew know about the change of locale for the ready room. It's simple."

B'Elanna looked up at him consideringly. "And you've been playing least in sight so she won't know about the construction, and been playing micromanager so she won't see that the resource allocations were written into the sensor project. Terrific. When do you plan to construct this little surprise ?"

"Tomorrow. She won't see any of the materials. It's my night for Kolopac, so she won't use the ready room. I intend to do the construction while she's working tomorrow and have it done by the time she picks him up after shift . It won't be a problem, B'Elanna, unless the crew gets wind of the plan. I need to stop that."

B'Elanna sighed. "Yeah, right." She shook her head. "I hope you know what you're doing, old man. Really I do. It smells of a Maquis maneuver to me. Kahless only knows what Janeway will do."

"Nothing. This is what she wants."

B'Elanna looked at him, and sighed again. "And I'm a Talaxian." She looked down and then back up again. "You *swear* you'll stay out of here and let us finish the sensors?"

He smiled. "I promise."

She shook her head. " All right, I'll do it, and yes, I'll keep my mouth shut. You're on, but only if you go away. "

He smiled and left. Mission accomplished.

Hours later, he woke up from a deep sleep, suddenly aware that there was someone moving around in the living area of his quarters. He got up, looked around and found Kathryn on his couch next to Kolopac's crib. She was in her robe, with her hair down, sitting with her chin on her knees. She looked tired, and somehow fragile. He put the thought aside. Her presence was unexpected. Up until now, she'd accommodated his unspoken request for distance.

"Kathryn?"

She looked up in the darkness. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I was awake...rather, I couldn't sleep, and I just thought I'd check to see if Kolopac was all right."

He turned away and walked toward the viewscreen and away from her. "He's fine. He's sleeping, which is what we both should be doing as well."

She sighed. "I know." She paused and then looked around her and asked, "Chakotay, what is all this?"

He shifted his weight, uncomfortable. He didn't want to have to tell her. He'd intended the project to be complete before she had a chance to ask. He'd intended to break down the Janeway wall by literally and physically building the barriers she wanted and then breaking into them on a daily basis. Siege.

He finally responded. " It's about another sort of compartmentalization. I thought if you had a space for Kolopac in your quarters, it'd be easier for you to work there. I assumed you'd want to move the ready room there. I was going to build it tomorrow. I've kept the plan quiet, of course. You can choose when you want to alert the crew to the change."

He didn't like her silence.

He continued. "There's no space left in here, Kathryn. The room's too small to accommodate all of what we need it to do. Nothing would really change, except that the set up would be more convenient for you and we'd both have a place to retreat to. I would be conveniently absent, of course, or as absent as I could be, given that I am Kolopac's father."

She turned away and sighed. "It makes sense, of course. You'll have your privacy back again. It's thoughtful of you to plan the change quietly, Chakotay. Thank you."

He waited for her to continue, but she remained silent, sitting with her cheek on her knees, looking away from him and towards Kolopac. He needed to say something; the silence was too awkward.

"You look exhausted, Kathryn. You need to get some sleep."

She shook her head. "It's all right. I'm just tired of the unknowns. We've been dealing with the problem for nearly two months now. I'll be glad when it's over."

He watched as she slowly rubbed the back of her neck, and then put her hand on Kolopac's head. The last two months filtered through his memory, as he remembered how stressful the problem with the unknowns had been for her. He'd added to her worries, by refusing to offer the support she'd come to rely on, whether she was willing to admit she needed the help or not. He'd thought she needed to learn to hope but he'd ignored the problems she was facing on a day to day basis. He should have left the plan for later.

But there would always be another problem, always be another crisis on the horizon. There'd never be time. In the end, what he needed, or thought she needed, didn't matter. He looked at Kathryn and then at his son, the most important people in the universe to him. And watched them quietly, while he saw his whole plan fall apart, like the construction of sand that it was.

He couldn't use military tactics to control his relationship with them. Siege wouldn't work; he wanted to compromise too much, wanted to see the tiredness leave her eyes, and wanted to stop her resignation. He simply didn't want to win. Not if it hurt either one of them.

But he couldn't lie about what he needed, either. He had to finally let go.

"Sand castles."

She looked up at him, confused. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just a thought. A young child's fantasy creation. Sand castles."

"I don't understand."

Now wasn't the time to explain, of course. There would never be a time. He settled for the practical. "Have you eaten today?"

"Yes. I think so."

He gave up the point. "And I suppose you've overdone it on the coffee again."

She smiled resignedly. "Probably. I can't remember. It doesn't matter. "

He bit back his immediate thought that it did matter, and turned away. If there was an absolute in the universe, he was sure it was named Kathryn Janeway. She was never going admit she needed anything or anyone.

"Then I'll see you in the morning, Captain. Unless there's something else."

"No, of course not. Goodnight."

He turned and walked back to his sleeping area. He almost missed the comment, she said it so quietly. "I miss you, Chakotay."

He turned and looked back at her. He didn't like the matter of fact resignation he'd heard in her tone. And as he looked at her, he didn't like her tired, subdued posture or her calm expression. She expected him to refuse to meet her halfway.

Her comment wasn't much of an admission, but for Kathryn Janeway it was unheard of. But he couldn't let go quite that easily, without some understanding between them. "I want you here in the morning."

She looked away. "I think I can compromise on that now."

He wasn't finished. "And I want to discuss this after we get through this space. I'm not giving in, Kathryn. I'm just willing to put it all on hold for a while."

She shook her head, musingly. "I suppose we'll have to discuss it. I didn't realize how much I'd... misunderstood the nature of the connection."

He looked at her and smiled. A subdued Kathryn Janeway was a new experience, and one he wasn't sure how he felt about ; guilty or relieved. He reverted to the practical.

He pulled her up from the couch and into his arms. "Kathryn, you've had too much caffeine, not enough sleep and forgot to eat dinner. By tomorrow, you'll be just as difficult as ever."

He could feel her start to relax. "I suppose that's true."

He ran his hand through her hair and began to relax himself. "We both need to sleep. Tomorrow's not going to be easy."

She smiled into his chest. "It never is."

Section 8

In his more paranoid moments, Chakotay felt like Voyager was the last mourner in a macabre funeral procession that led unalterably towards a grave site. The closer they got to the unknown's planet, the more eerie the space became. They maneuvered though the intransigent bodies of hundreds of wrecked ships, ghostly avatars of what they would find ahead. They searched the wreckage, but there was no story to decipher beyond that of terrible destruction.

The planet was annihilated. There was no life and little atmosphere left, although at one time there must have been a lush climate. There were signs of a once thriving civilization in the southern hemisphere. They could deduce from the remains of the structures left standing that the people might have been sophisticated and intelligent, but the devastation was so comprehensive that it was difficult to be sure. The entire culture was wiped out. They could find no archive to give them a clue to who the people might have been or what had caused the destruction. The planet was a shell; a horrifying legacy and a poignant monument to an unknown race.

With the dead all around and below them, Voyager was a ship out of time and out of place, alone in a graveyard. The crew was becoming unnerved the longer they remained. Chakotay was as well.

The more carefully they examined the spatial debris, the more clear it became that not all of the ships had been destroyed a hundred years ago along with the planet. There were signs of divergent technologies, of alien races, and some of the metals showed signs of more recent construction. He now believed that something, or someone, was intent on destroying anything that came near the planet. So far, the plan had been successful.

Janeway ordered deep scans of the planet, using the results of the new sensor project. For three days, Voyager orbited and searched for anything that might give them a clue to the story of the destruction and a key to the unknowns.

They were scanning the lower portion of the southern continent when the power signs from a previously unseen facility first appeared. Both he and Janeway were on the Bridge when it happened.

Chakotay jumped in, automatically issuing orders. "Shields up. Red alert. Arm phasers."

Janeway looked at him, questioning, but stopped short of saying anything that would deliberately contradict the orders.

He grimaced, looking back at her, sending a silent message. He could tell instinctively that there was something wrong. She looked away, seeming to understand.

His worry wasn't long in manifesting itself.

Tuvok commented, "The facility is sending out a beam, Captain. It is targeting a piece of debris around the planet."

Chakotay looked at Janeway. " Destroy the debris, Captain. It's critical."

She looked back at him and issued the order. He didn't really follow the rest of the process - the destruction of the target and analysis by the science team. He was still trying to deal with the overwhelming sense of relief that he'd experienced when she'd acquiesced to his request.

"In my ready room, Commander." The comment woke him up out of the fog he'd been in. He got up, and followed her.

When the door closed, she turned to him. "What was that about?"

He shook his head and looked away. "Gut instinct. It's not logical, I know, Captain. I can't explain it, but I think you are right in that the answer to the unknowns is on the planet and you're right that what's planning this *is* malevolent. We had to stop the beam."

She hit her comm badge. "Mr. Kim, any information on what the beam activated in the debris before we destroyed it?"

Kim responded. "It was a beacon, Captain. It had begun to send out a message for... the best I can describe it is ... for help, before we destroyed it. That's all."

"Acknowledged." Janeway looked back at him and gestured towards chairs. They both sat down. She stared at him expectantly.

"Siege."

She looked up in surprise and some exasperation. "I know the term, Chakotay. What does that have to do with destroying an automated beacon activated by an automated facility on a dead planet? The response was probably nothing more than a hundred year old request for aid that never got put to use."

He shook his head. "No. It was more. Why have we suddenly found a building that's intact and still has power?"

She looked at him consideringly. "We've only been doing a deep scan of the planet for three days. The facility may have been there all along..."

He finished the thought. "- or it may have been offline, and was activated by our scans. There's no way to know for sure. But if you're right that the answer to the unknowns is on the planet, then they may be protecting that information. This may have been a way for the facility to alert the unknowns that we'd arrived."

"I thought you didn't believe in my theory."

He grimaced. "I still think we ought to get the hell out and take our chances. But if you're right, and the answer's down there, then it's possible that the unknowns are also aggressively monitoring and protecting this area of space. The facility's response could have been planned to alert them to trespassers. By cutting off the beacon, we cut off their method of communication. I only hope we did it fast enough."

She thought about it, and finally shook her head in understanding. "Siege."

"Exactly. The first move is to cut off communications. Next, we need to surround the facility, target all phasers and weapons on it and prepare to fire at the slightest sign of change... and then, if necessary, we need to go down there and see what's there. And destroy it, if we have to."

She looked up at that. "I don't agree with the analogy, Chakotay, but I agree with the last suggestion. We need to find out if there's anything down there that might help us understand what's going on in this area of space. We've checked and rechecked. There's no life on that planet. The unknowns aren't here; they're out there on the boarders, waiting. We need to know where and we need to know why if we're going to get through this space in one piece. We can't just leave and take our chances. The facility is the only option we have so far of deciphering the puzzle."

She voiced the conclusion he'd come to but had been dreading. "We need an away team."

He shook his head, trying again. "We need a plan to surround the building."

She shrugged, resigned. "I'm not disagreeing. Your suggestion is precautionary, and it's possible you're right about the beacon. We don't know where the unknowns are, although we do know they're not down on that planet. They may be following us. It won't hurt to be prepared."

She continued. "I want Tuvok in on the design of the plan. " She paused and then looked at him, the determination obvious in her expression. "But I want this understood: we're going down there, the sooner the better. "

She waited for his argument, but he stayed silent. He knew she wasn't going to change her mind about leaving the planet without exploring the installation.

Janeway got up and walked away from him, looking out of the viewscreen at the planet. She finally turned back to him and asked, "Who do you want on the away team with you?"

He considered the question. "Hendrickson, Sager, and Dalby. "

She stared back. "Explain."

He smiled, somewhat cynically. "It's a Maquis mission, Captain - a surgical strike and a hit and run. I only hope we can run fast enough."

He paused and then continued explaining the specifics of the recommendation, carefully keeping his eyes away from hers. "Barring Paris, Hendrickson's one of the best pilots around. I'm going to have to watch all of it, so I can't do the piloting. Sager's one of Tuvok's best now. And while Dalby's not Starfleet trained, this mission calls for on-the-fly skills in Engineering. He's got that down cold. They're all familiar with reconnaissance missions."

He left out the main reason he'd chosen the way he had. She wouldn't agree with his reasoning. There was something about this mission that left him wary and cold inside. The truth was that Maquis had all given up on living years ago. And in the end, they were all expendable to Voyager. But he knew they'd fight to win, no matter the odds.

"I want you to take Aki as well. Beyond Tuvok and B'Elanna, he's the best we have for deciphering alien technology."

"He's not used to reconnaissance."

"He's not Maquis. That's your problem, isn't it? " She stared him down. "No one is expendable, Chakotay. No one."

He wondered bleakly when she'd developed the habit of reading his mind. He shook his head and admitted to what he was thinking. "The odds on this mission going smoothly are infinitesimal, Captain. There are too many variables."

"We'll find a way to make it work."

He turned his thoughts aside. It wasn't helping to dwell on the negatives. He grimaced and said the first thing that came to mind. "Of course we will. We've always beaten the odds."

Startled, he watched as she left her Ready Room without looking back. And then he damned himself for blurting out the comparison.

Section 9

At the end of a two-hour strategy session, Chakotay finally felt that he, Janeway and Tuvok had orchestrated as much of a plan as was possible. Some of the decisions had been obvious. They'd ruled out transporting an away team to the surface immediately. Transporting anything through the radiation in the atmosphere was currently impossible. That left the shuttles - not the best, but their only option. The problem was they couldn't predict the facility's response if it discovered a shuttle on reconnaissance. Up until now, it had ignored Voyager, although it had reacted to the scan. But Voyager had stayed in a high orbit. The ship hadn't threatened the installation or come near the surface. A shuttle mission was going to do exactly that. Some sort of defense was probable given its reaction to the scans.

They set up a three-pronged offense. Voyager would descend into a low orbit in the atmosphere to make the away team shuttle's trip to the surface short and sweet. A second shuttle would fly an intrusive, obvious and erratic course intended to distract the facility. And a third would set up camp outside of danger as a back-up, ready to help Voyager. The plan was the best they could come up with. Chakotay couldn't shake the premonition that it just wasn't going to be good enough.

Paris was flying the shuttle that was going to run the gauntlet. They'd need their best pilot in a shuttle intended to be a moving target. Tuvok was heading the shuttle that would stay back. That left Janeway with the beta team on Voyager, with the exceptions of Harry and B'Elanna. It was a logical strategy - separate the senior staff to oversee each of the objectives. Chakotay didn't like it.

At 0900, Voyager dropped down to a low orbit. There was no response from the planet. Paris' shuttle took off, followed by Tuvok's. Chakotay's shuttle was the last to leave Voyager. Hendrickon kept their movements erratic and subdued, hiding in the debris that surrounded the planet. Chakotay hoped their quiet, unobtrusive course would mask their progress and keep the installation unaware of them.

As they headed down though the atmosphere, Chakotay watched Paris' flying with grudging respect. Paris was guiding his shuttle at impossible speeds through the debris, dipping down to the planet's atmosphere, and then back up again. It was brilliant flying. If anything could confuse the facility, Paris' actions should.

Chakotay was watching for a reaction to Paris' maneuvers when he saw the beam. "What the..."

Hendrickson broke in. "Chakotay, Voyager's been stopped by a type of tractor beam. It's coming from the facility. No damage to the ship yet."

Dalby interrupted. "Two incoming messages from Voyager. The first is on a closed frequency aimed at the planet. It's a hail. The second, well, it's subspace, but on all frequencies." He look up, confused. "It's just three words, over and over. 'Haley at Denari.' "

Hendrickson looked up from the console. "Should I try to use Sackajawea to help Voyager break free?"

Chakotay shook his head, a sense of relief temporarily washing over him as he absorbed Janeway's message. He looked back at Hendrickson. "No. Stay on course but increase to full impulse. It's a ruse. Haley at Denari was a tactical maneuver used in the 22nd century by a small renegade ship. Haley let the Klingons think he'd been overcome, when he was safe, in order to confuse them and cover a reconnaissance team. Voyager can break free, and at least for now, she's safe. The Captain's using the opportunity to distract the facility so we can get down there, so let's *get * down there and see what this mess is all about."

Tuvok would understand the message, however arcane. But Paris might not know the reference, or misunderstand and try to help Voyager. Chakotay watched with relief as Paris continued maneuvers and refrained from any aggressive moves.

But he didn't like the implications. The first part of their strategy - distracting the facility with Paris' shuttle - hadn't worked. Janeway had been forced to use Voyager as the distraction.

They landed Sackajawea a kilometer from the installation amongst the ruins of buildings, thankfully ignored and possibly unobserved.

Chakotay tried to look out of the viewscreen, but all he saw was an unrelenting landscape of rubble, darkness and torrential winds. The deep gray ash of the dead civilization covered the shuttle, making sight impossible, debris still circulating in the winds even now, a hundred years after the destruction. Over all was the black mantle of eternal night . The winds pounded the shuttle with the left-over wreckage of ancient buildings. He stared at the onslaught, mesmerized, even as he tried to focus his mind and see into the distance.

He finally shook himself out of his preoccupation. "There's no way we're going to be able to tolerate this atmosphere for long without environmental suits. Dalby, is there any way we can use the transporters? I -." He stopped himself from finishing the request. He was asking the impossible. They hadn't been able to transport from Voyager; the possibility that the shuttle's less sophisticated equipment could handle the problem was unlikely.

Dalby stared at the console, working, and finally commented, "It might be possible. The target's only a kilometer away. I've readjusted the specs to account for the radiation and the atmosphere, but it's like teasing the tail of a Cardassian hunta. We have to time it perfectly in one of the lulls. But I don't think .." He ran some more calculations. "It's possible, but it's extremely dangerous."

Chakotay began running alternate plans through his mind. They could do it if they had to, but he'd rather not start a mission with very bad odds. Things were already bad enough.

Dalby looked up. "Look at this, Chakotay. I think I have the building specs. It's all underground, but…"

Chakotay stared at the console. ".. but that sure looks like an entrance of sorts."

Dalby shook his head in agreement.

Chakotay looked at the specs again. "Can you beam us directly into the building?"

Dalby shook his head hesitantly, talking to himself. "I think so. I saw B'Elanna do something similar once, on Kilmara. The problem is the building's composition. It's some sort of …" Chakotay couldn't hear the rest, as Dalby started mumbling and running calculations. Dalby finally looked back at him. "Yes. I think I can. I think I can set the specs for you to rematerialize just inside of what looks like the door."

"Atmosphere?"

"Oxygen/ nitrogen. We won't need masks."

Chakotay came to a decision. "Let's do it. Dalby, you'll need to stay here and control transports. Hendrickson, Sager, Aki, you're with me. We'll take it as its comes when we get inside."

He looked back at Dalby. " Divert all energy except environmental. That should help break through any interference. Keep the channel to us open, but don't attempt contact. We'll check in every half hour. If we miss two calls, abort the mission and get out of here."

He stood up and directed the team into a defensive crouch. "Let's get this over with and get back to Voyager."

Chakotay felt dizzy and lightheaded from the transport as he felt ash and dust fill his lungs. The air smelled stale; the dust permeated his clothes. He watched the others materialize slowly. Dalby was obviously having trouble. Chakotay shook his head, trying to clear it, and tried to assess their position. Dalby had managed to get them into the building but the consuming blackness outside seemed to have crept its way in. He shook away the fanciful thought, stood up and turned on his armband light. It was a dangerous move, but he needed get a visual sense of where they were and what they were dealing with. He scanned the area with his tricorder, trying to calibrate their location and appraise the situation.

Sager broke the silence. "Uh.. Commander, I think you better have a look at this."

Chakotay turned quickly towards Sager. His armband light outlined the desiccated corpse of something that was once humanoid, the leathery skin of its grotesque arms still straining towards the door. The body was face down, it's claw-like hands eternally scratching the exit.

Chakotay shook his head in disgust. "Bogey men."

Aki glanced at him, confused. "Commander?"

"Bogey men. An old Earth story to scare children. Like ghosts, goblins, and monsters under the bed." He scanned the corpse with his tricorder. "It has to have been there at least ten years." He looked carefully at the dust around the body. "And it was put here deliberately. Look at the footprints in the dust around it. " He continued his train of thought aloud. "It's the first evidence we have in dealing with the unknowns that there **are** live beings constructing the attacks. Up until now, all we've encountered is technology or remotes. It's the unknown's first mistake. They've given us evidence that they're alive and that they've been here. " He smiled, cynically. "And it's a damned silly way to scare off intruders. After what we've seen in space, one dead body doesn't cut it. Still, when we're done we should give the poor bastard a decent burial. He's been used enough."

He could feel the team relax into readiness as they absorbed his comments, as he tried not to show the dread he felt. The body was too obvious a ploy. And whatever intelligence was planning the attacks wasn't stupid. It had given them the information that it was alive for a reason, and he was sure he wasn't going to like the purpose.

Aki jumped in, distracting him from his thoughts. "Commander, look at this. There are footprints all through the dust in here. They're all leading into the central corridor." He paused again, and then commented, "And that's the only area where I can detect any power signatures."

Chakotay nodded. "Then we'd better check it out. Hendrickson, stay put. See if you can figure out a way to open that door. I'd like another alternative to transporting out of here. Sager, Aki, let's see what's in this place."

They headed for the heart of the installation, scanning for the main databanks. Chakotay kept expecting an attack, but there was nothing. The break-in was easy. It made him nervous. They followed decades-old footprints in the dust, alone and unchallenged.

The facility had no apparent internal security - an unlikely scenario.

They found the main databanks, alive and powered up, in an alcove just off the central corridor. Chakotay sent Sager to make sure the area close by was secure as he and Aki began trying to decipher the alien technology.

He couldn't find a way in. He couldn't break the codes. They'd been working for thirty minutes, past the first check-in with Dalby, and still there was nothing, no crack in the programs. The check-in had been mostly static. There was no way they could beam out from this deep inside the installation. They'd have to back track. Every moment was critical; each second lost from not getting into the programs a significant set-back in the mission. He cursed himself for leaving B'Elanna on Voyager, and Dalby with the shuttle. He didn't know Aki well; didn't know what the man was capable of under stress. He should. He was the XO. He should know these things. He tried to calm his breathing. He felt hot, although he knew the room was close to freezing. He had to keep control; he had to find a way out of this. They had to break the codes.

The console flickered. Aki broke in before he had a chance to say anything. "Commander, I've got it. I just changed the specs and it reacted. I think this is it."

Chakotay turned to Aki's console, examining the data on the man's tricorder. "Thank the universe. Recalibrate my tricorder to match yours. Then let's get the data. Look for anything related to their military structure, or the installation's specifications."

When Aki finished the recalibration, Chakotay turned back to the twin console and began scanning, filtering through layers of alien programming. The logic of the files was unlike anything he'd seen before. There was no hierarchy. The connections seemed erratic, illogical. He kept looking.

"Commander, I can't find anything on military strength, but there is data on the civilization. There's a description of the… hundreds of files."

"Upload everything you can find. We'll figure it out later."

Chakotay stared at the programs, trying to sort through the logic. It was warped; almost obscene. The data seemed like they had been structured by madness; celebrations were rituals of sacrifice; nauseating in their graphic visuals. Madness.. he pulled up files on the children… and found the installation's structure.

"Aki, I've got it. Military specs, at least that's what it .. well, take a look."

The installation suddenly began to increase power, the console in front of them taking on a virulent glow.

Chakotay swore, working frantically. "Where the hell is that power coming from?"

"I don't know. Commander, I think it's tripled the power to the tractor beam. Even Voyager can't pull out of this."

Chakotay watched in horror as the console he was looking at began to activate shields around the building. "It's a trap. It waited until we got down here, letting Voyager think she was safe. It's known all along we're here. And now it's got Voyager and us in a damned web."

The first weapon fire nearly took off his head. He crashed to the floor, hiding under the console. Aki was down. He hadn't moved fast enough. Sager dove over to Aki, moving him out of range. Chakotay looked for the source - there was no one, nothing. The silence was deafening… until he moved a hand out from under the console. The beams targeted his hand, coming from the walls.

He gestured to Sager. They had to take the chance of trying to get out. They had to get the data back to Voyager. He set his phaser to overload, ordering Sager silently to do the same with his and Aki's. Then he moved.

The beams came crashing around him, focused on him, leaving space for Sager to help Aki out into the corridor. He felt a hit on his shoulder and kept rolling. And then he felt the transporter.

He stared at Dalby. "How?"

Dalby shrugged. "I don't like change. Hendrickson blew a hole in the door just as the shields started to come up. I took the chance and focused the transporter through the hole. It worked." Then he smiled. "Besides, you missed the last check-in. Janeway won't like it if we don't bring you back intact."

Chakotay glared at Dalby. He just shrugged again.

"Voyager?"

Dalby sobered up. "Can't move. She's caught in the tractor beam. I've tried phasers. No effect on the facility's shields, but they do have a nasty habit of refocusing the beam back. The shuttle's shields held so we don't have much damage, but it means Voyager can't use any firepower to break free. Paris and Tuvok are firing. They can probably move quick enough to avoid the refocus in space. But Voyager's caught."

"What about firing in the gap?"

"There is a weakness, but not enough to matter. The building's shields went down for a few seconds when I hit that location, but they're restored again."

Chakotay stared at the chronometer. "Damn."

Dalby looked up from the console. "Chakotay?"

"We left the phasers inside on overload. Either they didn't explode or the facility was able to destroy them."

"Commander, should I take off?" Hendrickson moved into the pilot chair, looking at him expectantly.

He answered slowly, thinking through the problem. "No. Not yet. We have to use every possible option to help Voyager to break free." He scanned the data he'd found, and came to a decision. "I'm going to go back. I think I know how to bring down the shields but I'll have to do it from the inside."

Dalby broke in. "Chakotay, there's no way into the building."

"There is if we strike again at the hole in the door. I can get through the gap in the few seconds the shields are down. We can't destroy it that way, but I can get back in. That gap is the facility's Achilles Heel. We need to use it to our advantage."

"Hendrickson , once I'm in, get the shuttle back to Voyager. That's an order. They'll need the data Aki and I recorded in order to find another way to attack and get away from here."

"Commander -"

"No discussion. I'll beam up after I've dismantled the shields."

He pulled out of the chair, but Dalby was in his way.

"Chakotay, Voyager's transporters can't break through the atmosphere. You know that. The shuttle's transporter is barely operational on the ground, let alone in space. Communications with Voyager are erratic. It's suicide. You can't do it. Let me; I don't care about any of this anyway. I can-"

"Dalby, I nearly broke your jaw once before when you refused an order. I'll do it now for sure if you don't get out of my way. You don't know how to bring down the shields. I do. Now move."

"The hell I will. At least let me set up the site to site transporter on the surface and set up the remote through your comm badge. B'Elanna and Bandera did it on Bajor once, remember? It worked."

Chakotay stared at him. "You've got five minutes. No more."

Dalby moved. It was nearly five minutes when he came back through the shuttle door. Dalby stared at him. "Commander, you can't do this."

Chakotay was startled by the use of the title. Dalby never called him that. He shrugged. "B'Elanna may have figured something out by now. I'll hold off using the site to site until the end. I'd rather not interrupt whatever Voyager's trying to do with my atoms, but if they can't get a lock, it's a long shot that might work."

Dalby continued to stare at him, silent. They both knew it wouldn't work. If they did destroy the facility, the explosion would be too great, the location too close, and the interference too high for the comm badge commands to work. But still, if Voyager couldn't get him out, Chakotay knew it was the only chance he had.

Chakotay turned away, back to the console. " It's all right. It's just one of the perks of being XO. The lifespan projections were bound to catch up with me sometime. Tell the Captain... well... just tell her what happened. She'll know what to do, if I do get the shields down. If I don't, it won't matter anyway." He finally looked back at Dalby. " It's all right, Dalby. And if I don't make it; remember this. It'll be your job to care about things."

Dalby turned away. "You better make it back, Chakotay. I have no intention of going clean." Dalby sat down next to Hendrickson. "Systems ready; firing phasers." He paused, and then Chakotay felt the transporter take him back to the entrance.

He rolled as he rematerialized on the surface just outside the door. He watched the phasers fire, creating a gap in the shields and jumped through the hole just as it began to readjust. He was in.

There was silence. He tripped over the corpse in the darkness and started through the corridor, back to the consoles. There was nothing but whine of the power grids, as he moved closer to the heart of the building. He traced the route for the third time now in the last three hours. It would be the last time he's take it; either he'd be beamed out or die here. He knew each corner would be etched in his memory for the rest of his life. He turned into the final corridor, expecting attack. It was tactically the best place for the facility to assault him. He was totally vulnerable, but there was nothing. It was as if the facility's program had been written to only expect one entry, one attack. It was ignoring him completely. It didn't take long to figure out why. No one could make it back in time once they'd left the planet before their ship was destroyed. Once the facility had detected the shuttle's exit, it had shut off internal scans. It gave him a huge advantage, if he timed it right. But he had to be careful. There was no way of knowing what might alert the facility to reengage internal sensors. As he worked, he wondered how many times it'd run the program and how many other ships and lives had been lost by this senseless destruction.

He reached the main power console, used his tricorder and found the program that would bring down the shields. He could tell that the system was powering up weapons. It wouldn't be long now. He had to time it perfectly. He wouldn't get a second chance; neither would Voyager. Once he lowered the shields, Janeway would know what to do. But he wanted to give Voyager as long as possible to try to break through the interference and to try to get a lock on him. He could only hope that the shuttle made it back, that she'd gotten the specs, and that Dalby had told her his plan. He was ready now. The destruct was set. Ten minutes. By the looks of it, he had ten more minutes to hold on. And to think.

He wasn't very good at waiting. Memories flashed though his mind of the first time he'd seen Kathryn; of her sitting at his workstation with Kolopac, telling him to sleep; the way she'd looked when she'd figured out Karpekov ;the first time he'd touched her, on Ginn's planet; the last month when she'd been with Kolopac and him. The nights they'd been together; how it felt to just hold her. She'd been right all along. The chances that he was going to make it out of this were infinitesimal. He was going to die and she was going to be left with the rest of it, to pick up the pieces. He knew she'd take care of his son. He could only hope that he hadn't broken her control and she could keep focused for Voyager. Five minutes. Five more minutes and then it'd be over.

Section 10

"Shields at 60 per cent. Damage on decks 9 through 11, sections 16 through 30. Repair crews in route. Eleven in transfer to Sickbay."

Kathryn Janeway ignored the litany, getting up from the floor. " B'Elanna?"

The Klingon kept her eyes on her station on the Bridge. "I don't know **how** it's doing it, but I think it kicked our phaser fire back at us. It's doing the same thing to Tom and Tuvok, but they can move out of the way." Voyager took another hit, throwing the Klingon into the wall of the ship and Janeway nearly back down to the floor.

"Cease fire." Janeway breathed a silent sigh of relief as the barrage against her ship stopped suddenly. She made it to her command chair and sat down.

"Damage to the facility?"

Kim responded. "None, Captain. The building's shields are impervious to phaser fire."

Janeway got up again and started pacing. "Where did it get the power to catch and hold us like this? There wasn't enough. We checked it. There wasn't enough. "

B'Elanna didn't answer.

Janeway felt her left hand clutching, and made herself sit down in her command chair again, loosening her grip and placing her fingers carefully on the armrest. She stared blindly at the viewscreen, watching Paris and Tuvok maneuver through the debris, taking pointless shots at the facility. She wanted them here on Voyager. She wanted her entire command team on Voyager right now. The responses of the beta team were acceptable, but slow. They weren't used to combat. They weren't used to being caught. She tried to stop the thoughts from coalescing, but she couldn't help from turning and looking at the empty seat to her left. She couldn't stop the images of the past from filtering through her mind.

She jerked her head up, caught by a memory. "Shut down all power except emergency in Sickbay. Shields down. Leave incoming communications open and sensors online. But everything else comes down, now."

Only B'Elanna risked the question. "Captain?"

"Akido. One of Commander Chakotay's favorite sports." She smiled to herself, remembering how he always complained about the activity, and the night he'd hurt his shoulder. " It's using our own power against us. **That's** where the power to hold us is coming from. We need to shut down."

Janeway turned and looked at her Chief Engineer. "B'Elanna, think about it. The technology is reactive, not aggressive. It can't fire independently, it can only fire back . The tractor beam's the same. Somehow, it's gaining strength from our power. Voyager got caught in a loop of her own making. We should have pulled out immediately. It wasn't strong enough to hold us then. It **is** now. Shut down."

Janeway watched as her ship went dead, drifting in space. They had maybe two, perhaps three hours before Environmental would have to be restored or they'd all die, suffocating pointlessly in a godforsaken part of space the way hundreds of other ships had. If Tuvok were here, he could give her the precise number of minutes. It didn't matter. If she'd guessed wrong, they'd be dead in seconds. Even one shot from the building would destroy them without shields.

"Report."

Kim responded. "The power in the tractor beam's lowered by….9.85 - . It's working, Captain."

"B'Elanna?" Janeway didn't bother to elucidate. She knew the Klingon would understand.

"Five hours, at my best guess. And it's just a guess, estimating the rate of absorption of power, and the rate of decay we just saw. It'll take five hours before it loses enough power for us to break free."

Janeway looked away from her Chief Engineer. They both knew they wouldn't survive that long without bring Environmental back online. And that meant they'd be back in the loop of losing energy again and caught eternally in the tractor. She left the thought unspoken and changed the direction of her commands. "It's a start. It gives us time to identify some alternatives and it gives the reconnaissance team time to get back here and get us the data."

No one responded. Janeway sat immobile, and waited, her mind running over all the alternatives. There weren't many.

It was a half hour later when Kim broke into the dark silence that had settled on the Bridge. "Sackajawea is off planet. They're in hailing range - now."

"It's about time. Janeway to Chakotay."

"Hendrickson here, Captain."

Janeway paused. "Where's Commander Chakotay?"

Hendrickson avoided the question. " Captain, are you all right? We have the information, and plans of the building. Can you accept transmission?" It was clear Hendrickson was confused by the way Voyager was drifting, dead in space.

Kim shook his head in the affirmative, indicating he was prepared. Janeway opened a channel to Tuvok. She needed to make sure they had a back-up.

"Hendrickson, send the data simultaneously to Lt. Tuvok and to us… now."

Janeway barely heard the acknowledgements. She waited silently until she was sure the transmission was in progress and then came back to the immediate problem. "Hendrickson, are you damaged?"

"Shields are down to 70%, Captain. All other systems operating."

Janeway responded. "Stay out there. Don't try to get back to Voyager. Set up an evasive pattern, out of direct line of fire from the installation, and don't make any aggressive moves. You'll be safe as long as you don't fire against the building. Do you understand?"

"Captain, we know about feedback loop on phaser fire. But can't it fire independently?"

"No. You're safe as long as you don't fire or come near us. Do you understand?"

"Acknowledged."

Janeway watched through the view screen as Hendrickson hid in the wreckage of dead ships and Tuvok and Paris used their shuttles as blockades to protect Sackajawea. The planet stayed silent.

Janeway kept talking. She needed answers now and the channel was as secure as they were going to get. "What happened down there?"

Hendrickson replied. "It was a trap, Captain. The Commander called it a spider web. The installation's automatically programmed to destroy or contain ships passing by. We got in, and got into the databanks, and then it started to attack us inside and to raise shields. Dalby managed to transport us out through a hole in the building that momentarily caused a break in the shields. Aki's been hurt. He's stable, but he needs medical attention soon."

She asked the question she was dreading the answer to again. "Where's Commander Chakotay?"

He paused, and finally said, "On the planet. He was able to get back in before the shields completely closed. He thinks he knows how to bring them down from the inside. He said you'd know what to do."

Of course she knew what to do if he was able to bring down the shields. Order Paris, Tuvok, and Hendrickson to blast the thing to dust, with Chakotay in it. It wasn't an acceptable option. "B'Elanna, get on the transporters. Now. Leave the tractor. We have to get through that atmosphere."

Janeway started to initiate a link to Paris and then stopped herself. She couldn't send a shuttle back down there. Voyager was a sitting duck; she couldn't fire, she couldn't power-up without the installation using it to its advantage. The shuttles had to stay in space. The shuttles were the only option they had of destroying the building and breaking Voyager free. Even if Chakotay did manage to lower the shields, Voyager would still be stuck in the tractor, unable to fire. The shuttles would be needed to take it out. But there had to be another way to lower the shields without an internal saboteur.

"Transmission complete."

Janeway jerked out of her abstraction. She hit the comm button to the shuttles. "Tuvok, get on the shield composition. See if there's anything in the data that will help us stop the feedback and get through them to the building."

She turned back to the alpha team on Voyager. "Harry, get back on the tractor beam. See if there's anything in that data, anything at all, that might clue us into the way they're using our power."

She had to stay calm, to think through the problem logically. Disadvantage: she had a man down on the planet. Disadvantage: the transporters weren't operational through the atmosphere. Disadvantage: she couldn't send a shuttle. Disadvantage: she couldn't power up Voyager without the installation benefiting. Disadvantage: the ship was caught in a tractor beam of unknown composition. Disadvantage: firepower was useless against the shields of the facility. Disadvantage: the installation could use attacks against it to its benefit. Advantage: she had three shuttles, free, armed and operational, ready to help. Advantage: they had data about the installation's structure and the military strengths of the planet. Advantage: she had an expert team who had years of experience in making instantaneous, creative calls on how to work in crisis situations. Advantage: she had a man in the facility who might be able to bring down the shields.

She shook her head, annoyed at herself. Too many damned details. She wasn't thinking clearly. Overall goals: 1. identify and obtain the data they needed to get through this area of space safely; and 2. do so. They had accomplished the first; they were working on the second. Current objectives: 1. get Voyager out of the tractor intact; 2. get her crewmember off the planet equally intact. As Janeway ran scenarios through her mind, she realized the latter two objectives were probably mutually exclusive. They were going to run out of time.

Stop. She had to stop the distractions. Resolution: Identify possible methodologies to accomplish each objective and assign personnel to accomplish such. Objective one- get Voyager out of the tractor -: Option 1. Solve the technology of how the tractor beam works and beak free directly. Personnel: all of ops, Harry, and most of Engineering. Option 2. Identify a method to break through the shields and blast the thing to hell, making sure Voyager was safe from the explosion. Personnel: Tuvok, all of Security, and the shuttles. Option 3. Bring down the shields through internal sabotage and blast the thing to hell. Personnel: Chakotay and the shuttles.

Objective two -get Chakotay off planet intact, or at least out of the installation intact. One thing at a time. Option 1: Find a way to transport him out. Personnel: B'Elanna and half of Engineering. Option 2: Convince him to try to leave the way he got in. Personnel: none. She hadn't though it through. She needed communications with the planet. She needed to connect….connections.

"Harry, is there any way we can use the tractor beam's strength against it?"

"Captain?"

" Connections work both ways. Why can't we reverse the tractor beam's effect? It's taken power from us, why can't we use the connection to benefit us?"

"Captain, I don't under-"

"Try communication with the planet. See if there's any way we can use the tractor beam to enhance communication and break through the static. Use the tractor beam's frequencies and piggy back off the loop in the power. We need to be able to contact Commander Chakotay."

B'Elanna looked up, startled. " If that works with…"

Janeway finished… "communications, it might work with the transporter and it might enable us to * reconnect* with our own power and help us break free."

Torres shook her head. "For transporters and power the shields will still be a barrier. We'll have to target ..I.. Dalby's 'gap'. Torres to Sackajawea."

"Hendrickson here."

Torres ignored him. "Dalby, where was the gap? How did Chakotay get back in? Even if you only brought down the shields for seconds, there might still be a weakness there, something we can capitalize on."

There was silence from Sackajawea. Hendrickson finally said, "I blew a hole in what looks like a door in the building specs. The location's in the data…on… section 1.7 document 6. I think there's a tie in between the building composition and the shields stability. That's where Dalby got through with the transport and how we broke through with phasers."

Torres responded. "Dalby? What's the structural and chemical composition?"

Hendrickson finally replied. "Dalby's not here."

Janeway broke in. "Report, damn it. Now."

She could hear Hendrickson swear quietly over the comm line, even as she mentally assigned him to hell and back again.

"He's down on the planet. Dalby set up the site to site for Chakotay and connected the commands to the Commander's comm badge. But.. well, Dalby didn't think it was going to work that way. We beamed the Commander to just outside the facility, created the gap, and then before I could take off, Dalby grabbed two Environmental suits and left the shuttle. He said that he thought direct human control of the site to site might give the Commander a fighting chance." He paused, and then continued. "B'Elanna, he used Getti."

Janeway broke in. "What the **hell** is Getti?"

Hendrickson stayed silent. Torres finally looked at the Captain and commented, "Getti was a mission. Dalby, Hendrickson…. a number of others were caught. Chakotay broke them all out eventually, but not before Dalby managed to save Hendrickson's life. It's a long story."

Janeway snorted incredulously. "You're saying this was all about paybacks?"

Torres shook her head. "Yes. No. Sort of. About loyalty. It's the Maquis way. Hendrickson owed Dalby, Dalby owed Chakotay." She shrugged, all the while continuing to work frantically at her station, her eyes avoiding Janeway's.

Hendrickson broke in. "Captain, Dalby asked me not to tell you now because he thought the odds of anything working were impossible. He didn't want to distract you and he didn't want you to try to save him. He just wanted to give Chakotay every possible chance. He figured that if they did make it, they'd find a way to contact the ship. And I have the coordinates of where Dalby and the site to site are located. He said to tell you after you broke Voyager free."

Janeway rubbed her hand on her forehead, biting back the words of anger. She kept to the point; kept to her original train of thought. Objective two - option 3. Dalby, by some miracle, might be able to pull Chakotay out of the fire, even if they did destroy the installation.

She stared at B'Elanna, who finally looked back up at her, and watched Torres shake her head. She could tell B'Elanna was struggling to get the words out.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but it's practically impossible. Dalby's good; he's one of the best I've ever seen with transporters. They're his specialty. He knows them. But this is a long shot. And if by some miracle he does it, they won't last long even with the enviro suits. "

Janeway shook her head, ignoring Torres' assumptions and concentrated on the facts and the possibilities. Option 3, however unlikely, was still an option. Dalby might be able to get him out.

But now she had a third objective. She had two crew down on the planet, not one. Damn the Maquis anyway.

She broke away from her distraction, and said mildly, gritting her teeth, "Hendrickson, if there's anything else you've… accidentally neglected to tell me, I suggest you mention it now."

"Uhh.."

"**Now**, Ensign."

The unspoken threat seemed to have an effect. Hendrickson replied, "There was the corpse. Chakotay seemed to think it was important."

She didn't have to threaten this time. Hendrickson seemed to understand that he needed to get it out quickly. "We found a dead alien at the door. Chakotay believed it was positioned there deliberately. He said it was the first evidence we had that the unknowns were alive, and deliberately orchestrating the attacks."

Terrific. Disadvantage: infinite. Live beings were planning the attacks and wanted Voyager to know.

Janeway felt her anger grow and tried to ignore the implications. Live or dead didn't matter in the overall scheme of the objectives. That could wait. But she couldn't help herself from thinking that 'live' was the first positive thing she'd heard all day. It meant she'd eventually be able to find a way to hold someone accountable for the last three months and for this debacle, one way or another. She would make them pay for it. Through her anger, it occurred to her that her XO would object to the concept of revenge if he was here. She stopped the anger and stopped the thought.

"Captain, I've got a link. I parlayed comm along the tractor. It worked."

Janeway watched Torres scramble towards Kim, analyzing the implications of what he'd done in with communications in respect to the transport problem. Janeway turned away and looked at the viewscreen, steeling herself for the conversation.

Chakotay looked at her calmly, breaking in before she could comment. "Two minutes, Captain."

She found the most flippant tone she could drum up, and commented, "Get out of there, Chakotay. Heroics are unnecessary, even if you are genetically inclined. We'll find another way."

He smiled. "I've never believed in dramatics, Kathryn. You know that. It's not my style."

She turned away from the view screen for a moment, trying not to remember anything. "The hell they aren't. You've always been a sucker for the tragic hero role."

"Actually, I was hoping Voyager had come up with yet another brilliant maneuver." He looked down at the console and suddenly looked back up again. His smile disappeared. "But this was bound to happen eventually." His expression turned serious. " You were right about that; you were right about all of it. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out."

She stared back. "We can get solve this without you inside. Get out of there. We'll work it out from there."

He shook his head. "Kathryn, you've got one minute forty-five seconds. There's no way out except for transporters. The second I activate the programs to bring down the shields, the facility's internal security is going to engage. I won't be able to get back to the gap." He paused, and then said, " And from the sound of it, transporting doesn't appear to be an option right now."

" Listen to me, damn it. We've figured out communications, and B'Elanna's on the transporters. We can use the building's technology against it. There's no need for urgency. Stand down."

He shook his head. "I can't. I set the program to automatically engage - just in case I was killed by the internal security."

She damned him silently for picking now, of all times, to follow procedure. "Disengage."

"If I do that, it'll still affect the program. It'll know I'm here. And I might not get a second chance. Do you have another way to bring down the shields?"

Her silence told him what he needed to know. She realized he must have seen the horror in her eyes when he said, "It's all right, Kathryn."

He continued. "You have to take advantage of the options that are available. And right now, in this situation, I'm not your last option- I'm your best option. Don't negate the possibilities. Sixty seconds. Beginning count …"

Tuvok broke into the conversation from his shuttle. "All shuttles : phasers at 94.4 variance." Janeway watched as the order to reconfigure went out over the comm, and waited. Tuvok explained. "Captain, I believe this will enable the phasers to break through the shields. Firing on your command."

"Chakotay stand down. We have a way through the shields." She watched as he reset the program, then issued the order to fire.

"Report."

Kim's response of " no effect" occurred simultaneously with Torres' order. "Tuvok, send it though the gap."

Janeway let both comments stand without reaction as she watched the shuttles try again.

Kim finally gave her the response she was dreading. "Installation's shields down to 40%. Good, but not enough to get through to the building."

She watched as Chakotay was attacked from within the building, BY the building. He dove under the console. "Kathryn, we've set off the internal defenses. We're out of time. Engaging program… now." He looked back at her briefly, "Tell Kolopac, well, you know what to do. Thank you … for everything." Then he cut the link. She watched as the screen turned static.

"Shields down, Captain."

"B'Elanna?"

"I need more time, damn it. I … I can't break through, Captain. Transporters still not operational."

Kathryn Janeway stared at the screen. "All shuttles engage firing."

She watched silently as the building was engulfed by flames.

Section 11

Janeway stared at her desk terminal, rubbed a hand across her eyes, and swore at the validity of the theory of diminishing returns. It had been six hours since she'd watched the planet go up in flames and she'd pulled Voyager out of the ensuing debacle; six hours since she'd barricaded herself in her Ready Room; six hours since she'd sent out every shuttle Voyager had to the coordinates Hendrickson had provided. Since then, they'd been covering the area inch by inch with scans and on-site away teams; with everything she could throw at the planet technically, always moving in an ever broadening circle. She knew what the lack of results meant. Every step, every kilometer they moved farther away from the coordinates meant there was less chance of rescue. There was still no sign of her crew. She was running out of time… again. The enviro suits on the shuttle were designed for six hour stints in hostile climates. At her most optimistic guess, given the conditions on the planet, humans could survive another half-hour in the open after the suits became useless.

The planet's atmosphere hadn't tolerated the destruction they'd thrown at it in the process of nullifying the installation. The firestorm had been staggering - exploding miles up into the sky and in all directions. She looked out the viewscreen at the planet where the burning continued; the orange flames visible even now from hundreds of miles off planet. Obviously, the debris of the original destruction had still been volatile. She took little pleasure in the thought that so much was burnt now.

She looked away from the planet and rubbed her neck, trying to ease the cramp that had settled into her left shoulder, and reviewed the last six hours again. She had to be sure she hadn't missed anything, that she'd ordered everything possible to see them through this debacle successfully.

Voyager had taken a hit from the feedback loop of the tractor beam when they blew up the installation. Her first priority had been to get repair crews onto the worst of the damage. She pulled up an update from the terminal, relieved to note that the work was ahead of schedule. Most systems were operational again. Another six hours and the majority of the repairs would be complete.

An equally high priority was to locate her crew on the planet. The firestorm had made all sensor activity impossible from Voyager. They couldn't see a thing down there. She'd ordered Tuvok back to Voyager, had Hendrickson beam Aki to Sickbay, and then sent all the shuttles back down to the planet. Paris was in charge of search and rescue.

She remembered briefly the moment when Tuvok had called it a search and recovery mission. She'd nearly taken his head off for the error. But she hadn't been able to look Tuvok in the eyes since. She'd walked off the Bridge and barricaded herself in her Ready Room. She could oversee operations here as well as anywhere else.

The firestorm was hampering search efforts on the ground and in the planet's atmosphere. There were two teams onsite, walking the coordinates where Dalby should be. The shuttles were scanning the planet, as well as they could, in ever widening circles, looking for lifesigns. But there was nothing. Nothing. She thought about it again. There was literally nothing. No bodies, no bones, no transporter remains. The fires were terrible, but there should be something. Dalby had been a kilometer away from the installation when it blew.

There was nothing left of the building. It was ash, not even enough was left to call it a ruin. If Chakotay had made it out, it had been through the site to site. They'd either find him with Dalby, or … she wasn't going to consider any other alternative. She'd find them both. She knew it. She just needed to keep working. She'd kept B'Elanna working on the transporter problem and Kim focused on clearing up the sensor problem on Voyager. Tuvok had tried to object, but she'd shut him out, refusing to listen to his concerns.

She thought about the moment the building had exploded, reliving it again. B'Elanna had reported a surge of power in the transporter , and for one brief, heart-stopping moment she'd thought they'd pulled off the impossible and managed to transport Chakotay out. But they hadn't. Not that way, anyway.

She knew what Tuvok thought - the fires were too strong; the chances that Chakotay or Dalby had made it were infinitesimal. She didn't care what he thought. He was wrong. She repeated her thoughts. The fires **were** terrible, but there should be something. The only explanation was that Dalby had survived long enough to move. He'd moved, and he hadn't been able to contact them… which meant he was still down there somewhere, with an enviro suit that was going to decay momentarily. And she was going to find Chakotay with him.

Stop. She had to keep focused on the objectives. The unknowns - the Eckotonians ; she had a name for them now -were alive. They were out there somewhere, either hiding in the spatial wreckage or on their way back to the planet. Tuvok and all of Security were working nonstop to find them.

She wanted to find them. She wanted to make someone pay for all of this insanity. She felt the anger and adrenaline rush through her system and stood up, agitated. She walked over to the viewscreen and watched as the planet continued to burn. She crossed her arms, and closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing. Images of finding one of their ships, of blasting it to splinters, coalesced in her mind. She shook her head, appalled, and opened her eyes. Revenge wasn't the answer. That was the way to madness. She looked down again at the planet as it burned and turned away, disgusted with herself. Who was it - Nero, that was the name. All she needed was a fiddle and she be a case for comparison. She had people down there. She had brought Voyager to the planet to find a safe way out of this space - to save lives, not to exact vengeance.

Objective: locate the Eckotonians so that she could protect Voyager from any further attacks. Personnel: Tuvok and all of Security.

She sat back down at her terminal. The final priority was to sort through the data they'd gotten from the planet. They needed to know how the planet had been destroyed and who was out there - what the military strengths still were, and what they could expect. She knew a lot of it now, but not enough, still not nearly enough. She pulled up the executive summary of the data Research had sent her, analyzing the history once again.

It was a common story; so damned common. They'd seen it over and over again in the Alpha quadrant and now here in the Delta quadrant; a planet that had been vibrant, alive with growth - arts, culture, beauty, a developing technology - alive with possibilities. The people had developed sufficiently to explore the space around them. They'd begun to dream. And then the underside, the dark part of every civilization that always existed, had taken over. Every people faced that challenge. They'd developed the ability to destroy themselves and they hadn't been able to stop it. Exploration stopped and the policy of isolationism began. The space installations became militaristic functions. The factionalism in governments overcame compromise. War broke out between two powerful extremists groups. In the end, they'd destroyed themselves.

The specifics didn't matter. Hatred had won out. They hadn't been able to meet the challenge of living. A common story.

She shook her head, thinking. The end must have come in minutes - most of the population probably never knew what hit them. It was a heartbreaking end to a tragic story.

She brought her thoughts back to the point. The destruction would have occurred too quickly for any of the population to escape off planet. That meant that the only Eckotonians who had survived the holocaust had been stationed in the military installations in space. She looked over the file again. The installations had been automated - used to monitor and contain external threats from other races who entered the space - and coordinated from the planet, for the most part, from facilities like the one that had attacked Voyager.

Each faction of government on the planet had had their own ships and safe stations. But the focus of the governments had been internal, not outward looking. There hadn't been many installations or ships. She scanned the file Research had sent. It was there at the bottom… what looked like the rosters. Twenty beings. If their analysis was correct, twenty beings had survived the devastation a hundred years ago. Twenty out of three billion.

And that's where the written record ended. From what they could surmise, at least some of those twenty had stayed and repaired the facility on the planet and many of the automated ships over the years. They had even enhanced the ships, if the readings of the data were accurate. Voyager had run into more sophisticated technology than what the data indicated was possible when the planet had been destroyed.

Someone was out there still defending the space of a dead civilization. That someone had deliberately attacked Voyager again and again. That someone had reorganized all the files left from the planet to tell a sad story in a sick, perverted logic. That someone wanted Voyager to know it was alive. That someone was insane.

Twenty beings. A hundred years…how many of them were still out there? How many children had been born to live a sick plan of paralysis? To live in regret and memories of the past?

Where were they? And what were they planning?

She had to focus. She had to get her crew back and then she could…

Janeway kept her head down determinedly, staring at the terminal as the door to her Ready Room opened unannounced. She didn't want to hear Tuvok's concerns. She preempted the Vulcan. "Status on the search for the Eckotonians. "

Kes' voice replied calmly, " I don't know, Captain. Perhaps you should go out onto the Bridge and ask. You've been working for twenty hours now. And Neelix says you haven't eaten. Perhaps it might be best to take a break."

Janeway looked up and stared at Kes in astonishment. Only Chakotay had ever had the gall to question whether she'd... oh god.

Kes had Kolopac with her.

She closed her eyes. "I can't do this right now, Kes. I need to focus on the search. Can you keep him for a while? I can't take care of him right now."

Kes replied, "Kolopac's fine, Captain. He doesn't know what's happening. He's too young. But I think **you **need him. You've been in here alone for almost eight hours. And it's not been an easy day."

Janeway opened her eyes and looked at the chronometer.. eight hours.. it wasn't possible. Eight hours. The window was gone. The universe had gone on, ignoring her, while she'd been "assessing" the objectives, fighting against impossible odds.

She had crew down on the planet that had been searching a full day, long past what their enviro suits could handle. She could only speculate on what safety measures Tuvok and Paris had concocted in order to adhere to her commands and yet keep the away teams safe. She'd been pushing the Voyager team for well over two shifts now to find something that wasn't possible - an answer to the problems in the atmosphere. She'd..

Kes broke into her thoughts, commenting, "I'll just leave him in the crib. He's sleepy now. I don't think he'll be very difficult. I've fed him and he's ready for bed." Janeway watched as Kes walked through the room, placing Kolopac carefully into his crib.

"Good night, Captain." Kes left without looking back.

Good night. Night. It was **night** on the planet now. Her teams were hampered by the flames, hampered by the smoke and the winds, and now they were hampered by the darkness that had set in. It was a measure of how good, how excellent her crew was, that they had continued against all odds in the face of unreasonable orders. It was a measure of how much they cared about Chakotay, and perhaps how much they cared about her. They deserved better than a Captain who was obsessing on the impossible.

She hit the comm link. "Tuvok."

"Captain?"

She swallowed. "Status changed to search and recovery. Bring the shuttles home. Divert… " She stopped. "Focus all efforts on repair and on defense; they're out there somewhere still. I know it. All personnel who've been on two shifts straight are to be relieved." She paused, and then said, "Tuvok, you're in command for the next six hours. I'll be in my Ready Room. "

"Captain…I am sor-"

"Janeway out."

She closed down the link and walked over to Kolopac's crib. He was asleep on his back, his small fist laid up against his mouth, his head turned towards the left, toward the viewscreen. She turned his head away from the still burning light on the planet. The overhead lights in her Ready Room were dull, institutional, supposed to be soothing. They'd always annoyed her - she'd never thought they provided enough light. But Kolopac had grown up with them on; during all the hours she and Chakotay had worked while he was sleeping. They wouldn't bother him now.

What had she done?

She stood up, fighting the sensation of nausea as her gut turned over. Too much coffee, not enough food, too little sleep… it all came back to her, the number of times he'd harassed her about her bad habits.

She took deep breaths, trying to stay calm. At what point did she make the mistakes? What could she have done to stop this, to prevent this? A million different small decisions, changes in path - none of them would have made any difference. Once they'd committed to investigating the planet, the road had been set. He hadn't wanted to come here. But she'd made the call. She thought it through. It had been the right decision. They knew how to get out of the space now; she could protect Voyager and they could continue on.

They were going to have to continue on. She'd known this day would come eventually. They both had. She could have led the team herself… she stopped the thought. If she had, they probably wouldn't have gotten the data, or she'd be the one that was gone. She had to stop questioning herself.

She looked back at Chakotay's son. Kolopac was looking more like his father everyday. Bronze skin, dark hair… and he was a big child for his age, he'd grow into a powerful man. God, she'd promised she'd teach him about his heritage. What did she know? She'd never asked about any specifics. She'd been too busy keeping her distance, trying to stay in control for this day. What idiocy. She'd lost the chance to know so much more… to have so many more memories. What could she say to Kolopac as he grew older? That she'd loved his father but never told him? That she'd tried .. that she'd succeeded in keeping her distance? For what? She felt regret wash over in her waves as she damned herself for her stupidity. What could she do for the boy; how was she supposed to raise him… she'd spent most of her life successfully avoiding emotional connections. How was she supposed to parent him? To teach him what was right, to tell him about his father, to guide him effectively?

What the hell was Kes thinking to bring him into her now? She couldn't… Kes had said something about her needing Kolopac. She did need Kolopac, but even more she needed Chakotay right now.

She stopped herself. If Chakotay were here right now, he'd stop this train of thought. She could hear him saying over and over in the last six months that things would work themselves out; that it would be all right. If he were here, he'd understand what she'd done and he'd forgive her. What was it he'd said… she'd know what to do.

She'd know what to do? What did she know about parenting? She was a Starship captain; more to the point, she was a scientist and someone who'd spent most of her life avoiding the kind of connections Kolopac needed; things Chakotay knew instinctively how to do. She'd never told Chakotay that - told him how much she appreciated his way with people; how much she relied on it. How much more had she neglected to say?

If it was her epitaph, she'd know what to say. She'd been an adequate Captain, a good scientist, and a lousy lover. Until she'd met Chakotay, she hadn't understood all the possibilities - her own strengths, her own limitations, and how she could learn from them both and enhance them -that existed in a partnership. With him, she'd learned to accept who she was because they'd been building something together that worked for them both, acknowledged who they both were and how they could complement each other. That was gone now.

She had to remember for them both because of the child. Kolopac needed a parent with both of their skills - one who could look to the future and be unafraid, who was willing to explore new possibilities in life, not try to control it all. He needed a parent who wasn't distant because of regret.

She swore at the irony of it all. She'd told Chakotay all of that, what seemed like years ago, when he'd first brought Kolopac on Voyager. She hadn't understood what she'd asked of him. She did now. She could do no less for the child now than what she'd forced on Chakotay then.

She'd find out what she didn't know; she'd teach him what she could. It was what Chakotay would have expected. She would be the kind of parent Kolopac needed. She'd find a way. She corrected herself. She'd **try** to be the parent Kolopac needed. They'd learn from there, together. She was done with second-guessing the universe. She'd learned that much, at least.

And she was done with second-guessing herself.

She picked the boy up, holding him close to her chest, and sat down in her chair. She'd do the best she could.

Kolopac finally shifted sometime in the ship's early morning. He was irritated with her control over his movements. He didn't want to be held. He wanted to be in his own crib, sleeping comfortably and easily, free to move without restraints. She smiled at the irony, even as she released him and put him into the crib in her Ready Room.

She understood now that no one could live happily or easily without acknowledging and embracing fully the bonds of all types of commitment. Kolopac could sleep easily now, feeling safe, because of Voyager and her crew, because he instinctively understood that there was a family to support him. She'd make sure his childhood and its security lasted as long as she could.

She finally contacted Kes. The Ocampan treated the interaction as normal, as she took Kolopac away to get established with the next set of crew assigned to oversee his day.

Janeway sat back down in her chair behind her desk, staring out at the viewscreen.

Death was normal as well. It's aftermath was what was surreal for the survivors. The minute, miniscule, mundane details of the day eventually forced one back into the reality of living after the loss; details that seemed illusory even as one went through the motions. How many times had she felt this way? Too many to remember. The aftermath of death was so grim because life went on, calmly and coherently. One reminisced with friends about the memories, and spoke to oneself about the implications silently , and still life continued on, changing for all that were left. The world ought to be frozen, silent, locked up in a paralysis of what had gone before. But it wasn't. It continued on. They all did, eventually.

She grimaced. And so, she was facing the mundane, perhaps the most frightening of her demons. Death was often a time when others stopped to review - a time for religion, or philosophy or poetry. She shook her head. She wasn't centered spiritually the way Chakotay had been. Perhaps if she was, this would be easier. As for the rest… well, what was it Chakotay had said? Philosophy wasn't her strong point. Neither was poetry.

She had people who needed her. Right now, she needed to get on with the minutia of living, no matter how artificial it seemed. Her connection to Chakotay was one that would be with her for the rest of her life. She didn't need to think it all through now. She couldn't.

She contacted Tuvok.

The Vulcan entered immediately. He'd clearly been waiting for the call. Janeway swallowed, suddenly realizing that she didn't know where to begin.

Tuvok stood at ease in front of her desk, waiting for her to begin. He finally broke the silence. "I am sorry for your loss, Captain."

His comment was simple and to the point.

"Thank you." It was a simple response that acknowledged all of the implications. The time for prevarication was over.

She looked away. " I was wrong to … disagree so strongly with your assessment earlier. You were correct in your analysis of the situation."

"My comment was untimely. I apologize for the error."

Just once, she felt the need to delay discussion of the command issue at hand. There was another question that seemed more important to her. "Tuvok, do you know that if I die Chakotay has left you guardian of his son?"

Tuvok nodded seriously. "The Commander asked me if I would agree to guardianship last month. I accepted. But he never told me why he'd chosen the way he had."

"He thought you understood a lot about tradition. He thought you could help Kolopac learn that."

Tuvok finally commented, "I understand."

She looked up. " Will you help now, Tuvok ? I've never paid much attention to tradition. I don't understand… the importance it plays in some cultures, or its ramifications. Can you .. would you help me explain it to Kolopac as he grows?"

She watched the Vulcan turn away for a moment and then felt relief as he responded. "I would be honored."

"Thank you."

She'd almost forgotten Tuvok was there because of the silence. She'd been thinking about Kolopac and Chakotay and the past and the future. She started when the Vulcan commented, "Captain, your orders were correct."

"Come again?"

"You were correct to order the exploration of this area of space and to order the search of the planet. Your actions have been appropriate, professional and logical."

She kept her eyes focused on the viewscreen, away from the Vulcan. "I left three away teams on that planet long after they should have been brought home. It was irresponsible, no matter how much I wanted the results to be different."

"I disagree, Captain. You are not alone in the belief that search should be continued."

Janeway finally turned back to face the Vulcan, forcing herself to listen. "I may have been distracted, Tuvok, but not that distracted. I'm certain I heard you state some concerns about sending the shuttles back down."

"I did suggest caution in sending all three shuttles back to the planet. Given the facility's destruction, the probability is high that the builders will return. At the time, Voyager was not fully operational, nor had we analyzed all of the data retrieved from the facility. I believed it was prudent to retain a shuttle to help with Voyager's defense. It was not my intent to question the priority placed on the search."

"I see." She grimaced, acknowledging the error. "You were correct. I should have placed more emphasis on Voyager's defense."

"It is irrelevant. The builders have not yet appeared, and nothing further has threatened the ship. In retrospect, your prioritization of the search over defense **was** the correct choice."

"Tuvok?"

"Captain, it is highly probable that Commander Chakotay died in the explosion of the facility. Ensign Dalby's death is another question entirely. There should be physical evidence. His complete disappearance, and that of the transporter, is inexplicable. Had you not ordered a comprehensive search, we would not be able to make such an assessment. The lack of evidence would have been attributed to delay and the continued burning."

"Your recommendation?"

The Vulcan stared at her calmly. "I have no recommendation on this particular issue beyond what I have stated. The search for evidence should continue. We should not leave here without investigating fully the facts concerning Dalby's disappearance."

"Acknowledged." There was nothing new in his comments from what she'd thought before. But they'd looked, they'd tried, and there were no results.

Tuvok wasn't finished. "Captain, as the commanding officer left in charge, I have acted on these premises. I countermanded your orders to discontinue the search on the planet. I accept full responsibility. But due to my orders, Lt. Paris and his shuttle are still on the planet, searching for data."

"Why Paris?"

She blurted out the first thing that came to her, even as she did so realizing how tired she was. Then she forced her mind to concentrate. Tuvok could have easily brought the shuttles back and then sent out a beta team. The maneuver would have prevented him from countermanding her and yet continued the objective. Something else was going on.

"Lt. Paris and I agreed that the search would be unavoidably delayed if another team who did not have direct experience with the area were to take over."

She didn't buy it. Tuvok had trained the teams. They were experts. The transition would have been seamless. "And…"

The Vulcan looked almost exasperated and surprising worried. "And.. Voyager's crew is a human crew, Captain. In my experience, humans do not tolerate what they consider to be defeat until they have exhausted all possible options, and exhausted themselves in the process. This mission is a case in point. When I ordered Lt. Paris back to the ship, his arguments were at first logical, but ended with the comment: 'He's not getting out of it that easily.' I interpreted this to mean that Lt. Paris and the Commander had a connection that was close and also unresolved. Paris was unwilling to come back to Voyager; I was unwilling to put him on report or divert resources needed elsewhere to disciplinary actions. Because I believed it was in Voyager's best interests to continue to keep at least one shuttle searching the planet, I permitted Lt. Paris to continue to head the away team."

"Paris has always been -"

"Lt. Paris was not alone in his attitude. Lts. Kim and Torres, as well as many others who ... 'worked two shifts'… were relieved of duty as per your order, but still remain on the Bridge. I permitted this, but the Beta team is now in charge. Any of the Alpha team who wished to remain have agreed to serve as consultants to beta."

Janeway's mind refused to comprehend the personnel problems the Vulcan must have gone through to get her Alpha team to serve as 'consultants' to beta. If she hadn't issued the order for crew to be relieved, they'd have been far more efficient about the process. They'd have all just kept on working, as they wanted to. But she had issued the order, and Tuvok had found a solution..

Tuvok had had to take the lead of a group of humans who had just lost their XO in dangerous space while the CO was absent and yet had issued humane orders that were inherently inhuman. It had been an outrageous thing to ask of him, but he'd handled it well. It must have been incredibly difficult for him.

Her error had been simple; a reaction. She wasn't used to thinking through personnel problems any more. She was used to Chakotay being there to mitigate them and alert her to them. Chakotay would have stopped her from making the error of issuing the order. She could almost see it. Nothing would have happened; she'd have finally realized that and would have been annoyed. She'd call him into her Ready Room, and he'd cheerfully mumble something about misunderstanding her intent, all the while carefully explaining WHY it was clear the order was 'unnecessary' and that was, of course, why he'd misunderstood. And of course, she would have wanted to kill him, but in the end would have just agreed. It had always been easier to just agree when Chakotay was on a roll and the end results were expedient for the ship.

Tuvok hadn't been able to stop the order, but he'd managed to stop the damage.

She brought herself back to the present. "Tuvok, your understanding of human behavior is exceptional. Thank you. The situation must have been ... singularly trying. " She swallowed, acknowledging the reason for the change. "It's going to take us both a while to get used to him being gone. I'm sorry."

The Vulcan didn't pretend to misunderstand. "The Commander's knowledge of and ability to navigate political and emotional undercurrents was unique. I learned a great deal about human behavior from watching him. I will miss his consul. "

The comment almost made her smile. Knowing Tuvok as well as she did, she saw the annoyance and confusion in his expression, even as his facade maintained a very precise stoicism. She finally commented, "It was unique in mine as well."

She wanted to say more, to tell the Vulcan how important he was to her, how much his actions meant to her, how important he was to Voyager. But she knew from years of living on his planet, and from years of knowing Tuvok, that such comments would be uncomfortable and illogical to him. They would make HER feel better; not him. She wouldn't put him through the additional trial of having to tolerate more emotion.

The best she could do for him, and for Voyager, was to think through the logic of the problem at hand. Tuvok was right. The builders were either out there now, in the immediate space around them, hiding, or were on their way to the planet.

She got up from her desk and began to pace the room, forcing her mind to focus. "Probes?"

"There has been no incoming data indicating movement of any ships toward the planet . The space within ten light years of Voyager is static."

She turned away from the viewscreen and looked back at the Vulcan, shaking her head. "That doesn't…"

Tuvok interrupted. "It is the space within the nearest parsec that is dynamic. The debris movement is erratic and volatile. Captain, while you were off duty, we were able to determine the answers to a series of questions. The written history of this culture stops when the planet was destroyed. However, after detailed analysis of the data that Commander Chakotay sent back from the planet, we identified schematics of a defense plan that we are sure was designed after the planet's destruction and has continued to be updated consistently. The latest entry was 4.5 standard days ago."

Tuvok handed her a padd. She took it and began to scan the summary. He continued. "The data is obscure, protected, and technical. But our interpretation is that there were 58 remotes defending this area before Voyager entered the space. Their main power source was the facility. By our last estimate, Voyager destroyed at least ten of the remotes. The facility's destruction has rendered the rest of the remotes inoperable; they are currently drifting in space. However, we have also determined that there was a flagship that was able to enhance power to the remotes when they were too far from the planet and was clearly directing their movements. That ship is still missing."

"And it's not on its way here…which means…"

The Vulcan broke in, almost unheard of behavior for Tuvok. " - which means that it is likely that it is already here, and hiding from us."

She looked up from the data summarized on the padd, setting it down on her desk. "And waiting for us to make a mistake. Tuvok, are you SURE the probes are correct? There's no irregular movement outside this parsec?"

"There is a 97.5 % probability that the probes are correct, Captain. The space outside of this parsec is composed of large, regular bodies. It is only within this parsec that there are a large quantity of small objects. However, they continue to move with the predicted regularity we have seen for the last month and we can identify no power signatures. "

"So wherever the Eckotonians are, which is probably close by, they've been deliberately drifting, and keeping lifesigns to a minimum."

"That would be the logical interpretation."

"Methodology?" She didn't need to ask. She knew all of the options had been examined, but she also knew Tuvok needed to review his analysis of the approach. She waited, listening. She was surprised at his brevity when he finally replied.

"Sensors, long and short range. Lt. Kim was also able to identify additional communication and power nodes on the schematics. We have investigated those locations. All were enhancer sites, and rendered useless by the facility's destruction."

She leaned back against the front of her desk, standing with her arms supporting her, and faced the Vulcan as she summarized. " And so we still have a live ship out there close by whose technology is outside our experience that has control of 47 or so remotes."

"It is possible. The probability that the ship has complete control of the remotes, after the main power source's destruction, is not high, but the margin of error in that analysis is sufficient to merit Voyager's attention to the possibility. "

Janeway thought it through. They probably weren't out there, but Voyager still needed to pay attention to the possibility. They'd been here before, over and over again. Chakotay had wanted to break them out of the loop; she'd refused to consider the option. And now, again, she was facing the same situation, only this time she was the one who wanted to be done with the space and the problem. Her mind caught on a tangential piece of data… something she'd heard long ago. What was the phrase? "Echoes from beyond the grave."

"Captain?"

"It's nothing, Tuvok. I just finally remembered a piece of poetry." When the Vulcan looked confused, she grimaced and tried to articulate the connection of the thought to the problem at hand. "We've been here so many times since we entered this space. We've thought the story was over, but there's always been another variation. This is yet another echo."

Tuvok stared at her, his expression completely frozen.

"Tuvok?" She realized the inadvertent implications of her comment at the same moment his expression changed. She straightened, and began to pace the room again. "We need to track the echoes; the literal, real echoes of power in space. If you're right, and the flagship redirects power it absorbs to the remotes, then it's probable that the last power surges from the planet were sent to the flagship. If the Eckotonians were here, hiding, they would have tried to redirect the beams from the planet to the flagship and then to the remotes surreptitiously, making it all look accidental, as if the beams were simply echoing off debris randomly. But there would have to be a hidden pattern. We can find the flagship by tracing the last beams that came out of the facility that hit a piece of debris; debris that then sent random echoes of that power into space. "

Tuvok hit his comm badge. "Lt. Kim, check…."

Janeway didn't hear the last. She let the commands go by, knowing Tuvok would issue the necessary orders to the correct individuals.

He finally looked at her. "I am sorry, Captain. We should have thought of this earlier. It is an 'echo' of your idea that broke us out of the tractor. Your hypothesis is logical. The Eckotonian technology must absorb power passively and then redirect it to another location or purpose. The facility absorbed Voyager's power after we were caught in the tractor and redirected it. It is likely that the flagship served as a similar tool for the remotes."

She shook her head in agreement. "They're parasites; passively living off of the power of others and redirecting it for their own purposes. The facility was at least a willing host - designed and developed by the race. The Eckotonians probably started luring other species into this area when the power sources on the planet became insufficient to serve their energy needs in space."

She had barely finished the comment when she heard Kim's voice come through over Tuvok's comm badge. "Tuvok, we've located a piece of debris that took a beating from the aftershocks when the facility exploded, but without damage. The energy appears to have bounced off of it into space. "

"On our way." Janeway broke in. She and Tuvok headed onto the Bridge.

"Status."

Kim responded. "It's a small ship, Captain, similar in design to the others we've encountered. There's one lifesign. I don't think it knows we've identified it. "

Lifesigns… finally. Janeway wasn't sure how she felt about that; angry or finally victorious. " Lock on with the tractor. Let's return the local version of hospitality."

She watched in satisfaction as the alien ship stopped in its tracks. "Open a channel."

"Audio only, Captain. The alien is blocking visual. I can try to correct…"

"Open whatever you have."

She started to hail the alien, but it interrupted her. "You have violated Eckotonian space. Leave now."

Anger won out, fueled by the blatant arrogance of alien's attitude. "I didn't start this. But I am going to finish it. You're locked in our tractor. There's no way out. Try to power up and I'll destroy your ship. I promise to enjoy it."

She gestured to Kim to break the link and then looked back to Tuvok. "Get a Security team down to Sickbay and beam him onboard there. If he checks out medically, throw him in the Brig. B'Elanna, get a team onto that ship. I want to know everything that's in his database yesterday."

An hour later, the Doctor contacted her with the information that Tuvok was escorting the Eckotonian to the Brig.

Janeway was surprised at the brevity of the Doctor's comment. "I assume this means he checked out physically."

"In a manner of speaking."

"Doctor, just get to the point."

The Doctor replied, "He's dying, Captain. His physiology is unusual, but I would estimate that he's at least 130 years old. He's had limited physical care over the years resulting in arthritis in broken bones that haven't healed correctly, and multiple other problems. I've made him more comfortable, but the bottom line is that he's dying of old age."

"How long?"

"Another standard year, at most."

"Thank you. Janeway out." So, the alien was part of the original group that had watched the destruction of his planet. He'd probably been here ever since, reliving the horror on a daily basis. Why he had chosen to remain and more importantly, what she was going to do with him, were the last questions left. She got up and headed to the Brig. The sooner she got the interview over with, the sooner they could move on.

Section 12

Janeway walked into the cell, finally assessing the alien in person. He was shockingly human - there were few differences that could be detected without serious examination. She clarified her impression. He was more than human; he was the personification of what Starfleet wanted it's admirals to be physically, and what they never were. His body exuded power; his movements were careful and controlled.

He deliberately ignored her entrance and poured himself a cup of something she couldn't identify.

He was incredibly old. It seemed irrelevant. She tried to identify why he conveyed the impression of authority and elegance. His posture was firm and perfectly erect. His black clothing was precisely proportioned to his body. His medals were discreetly apparent even to one who was not of his race.

Even as he sat in **her** chair in **her** Brig, he gave the impression that he owned the space with which he came in contact. She turned the thought away, examining more of the specifics of his persona. His physical being was lean, very tall, and must have once been exceptionally muscled. Age had mitigated the latter image, but the residue of power was still there, perhaps more starkly visible in its decline because of the assurance with which he held himself. His white hair was cut in what Starfleet would consider a classic military style, pulled away from a face that was perfectly chiseled, the high cheek bones and strong jaw exemplifying the essence of what her race called human beauty in males.

Her mind refused to concentrate; instead remembering Chakotay in comparison. When Chakotay had died, he'd been un-classically handsome, a compelling and hardy man at the height of his power; strong and uncompromisingly solid and tall. He'd been controlled as well.

She looked carefully at the alien again. Chakotay's center had been different than this. There'd been a kindness underlying his power. This man had none of that. The alien had the assurance of someone who'd learned a craft; someone who'd been conditioned to portray the careful authority of military correctness. Chakotay, for all of his calm and solidity, had been like quicksilver, darting briskly from one issue to another, following his own moral code. The alien was like steel; nothing more than a product of his environment and training. He was a puppet honed to perfection from years of unwavering, unthinking adherence to rules and regulations. The thought, and the man, was disgusting.

Although the Eckotonian tried vigilantly to hide it, his hand shook slightly from age as he poured another glass of the liquid. She assumed he'd probably offer it to her. It was a classic response - the vanquished, un-vanquished, behaving as if there was nothing unusual with offering her hospitality in her own Brig. She admitted to a grudging amount of respect; he was the image of what she'd been trained to think of as powerful, perfect and correct - her with her background of Starfleet expectations of power and authority.

Then he looked up at her. The anger and hatred she saw in his albino eyes rushed over her in waves, even as she fought down a reaction. There was nothing to respect here; only something treat with disgust and disdain.

She rejected his offering of the liquid with her hand and stood in front of him, her hands on her hips, and fought down her anger - the anger he wanted her to feel. But she agreed to play his game of calm control. She'd learned it when she was a child. It was a plowman's game. She could play it against him. She knew the rules.

"Who are you and why did you attack us?"

The alien returned the offered glass back to the table in front of him. He picked up his own glass, and took a drink. His eyes deliberately assessed her; his gestures and expression indicating that she had failed some sort of test.

She ignored the implied insult and the insinuating assumption of command. She was too old, too experienced, and too tired for these sorts of games. She grimaced at the thought. The alien had lived far longer than she. The difference was he'd stopped somewhere along the line-he was trying to continue a path that had no thought, no growth, that refused to confront his anger and refused to confront change. She closed her eyes, appalled at her own instinctive understanding of his behavior. Perhaps, before Chakotay's death, they hadn't been so different. She filed the thought, saving it for later. His expression, and calm, was meant to undermine her control. She wouldn't let it happen.

"Your installations on the planet are destroyed. Your ships are destroyed. We have your flagship and we have you. There's nothing left. You're defeated; the game is over."

The alien finally responded. "That's apparent to all of us, Captain. I would like to know when you plan my execution."

Janeway shook her head in disgust. " You're right that the only question left is what to do with you. What happened to your people? By our calculations, there were twenty left a hundred years ago. My medical officer tells me that you were part of the original group. Where are the rest and your descendents?"

The alien leaned back in his chair, and looked at her calmly. "Do you mean to destroy them as well, Captain?"

She stared him down. "No. I have all the information I need to stop you and them from ever endangering this part of space again."

He took a sip of the liquid. "Then why do you care where they are?"

Janeway recognized the ploy. The alien was subtly interrogating her. She didn't fall into the trap. "My Chief Engineer is taking your ship apart piece by piece right now. We can do this the hard way and find what I need in your database, or you can cooperate and make it easier. I suggest you cooperate."

He shrugged. "Do what you want, Captain. You will anyway. But you won't find any evidence of any of my people left alive in the files."

"Why?" She paused, suddenly struck by the sick satisfaction she saw in his expression. "Never mind. You just answered. They're all dead. You're the only one left. What happened?"

She closed her eyes, her mind racing over the alternatives. "There were ten left from each side of your fight. You killed your opponents."

The alien looked surprised at the comment. "Of course. We were engaged in war, Captain. We won and so they died. You would have done the same."

She shook her head, sickened by the thought. "No. I wouldn't have. I would have tried to negotiate a truce. I would have tried to save what was left of my race and my culture."

The alien looked back at her calmly. "Then you would be among the dead, Captain. There was nothing to do except end it cleanly for both sides. It was the only alternative. There was a need for resolution. Our world was gone. There was nothing left for any of us except to know we were correct in the end. "

Janeway felt horror wash over her. Even after the planet had been destroyed, those who were left couldn't stop. They'd fought on after everything was gone. She finally asked, "Did all of your crew die in the attempt? What happened to the rest?"

The alien's eyes dulled, and he looked away from her. He finally commented, "Our orders were to defend our space. They tried to leave. It couldn't be permitted. It was dereliction of duty. I solved the problem."

She absorbed the words slowly, finally understanding that the alien was completely insane. He'd destroyed his species in his quest to fulfill his orders. He'd probably broken when he'd watched the destruction of his planet. After that, the one thing left in his mind had been to complete his mission. But … to exterminate the last of his race…and to seek vengeance and pointless redemption for a hundred years from other species who happened by…

She kept her expression controlled. She 'd found the alien's Achilles heel - he needed to talk, to be validated. His planet was dead, he'd been alone for decades. He wanted vindication. He saw her as military - as someone who would understand his insane adherence to protocol and affirm it. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"*You* were derelict. Your orders were to defend this space, not to aggressively attack races you encountered, nor to invoke military sanctions against others of your species. Your interpretation of orders was incorrect. You have not been engaged in defense; you have been engaged in continual acts of aggression. If you were under my command, you would be stripped of your duties and stripped of rank. You have over-stepped your bounds. There is no excuse for dereliction of duty."

She saw shock and then a feral look appear in his eyes. None of the emotions lasted long. His mask was immediately back in place. He smiled carefully. "I would have expected you to understand, Captain. After all, your invasion into my space was nothing more than an 'act of aggression' portrayed as a defensive maneuver."

She started to break in, but he continued. "I've researched your travels. You're out here alone. You **chose** to come to my planet. You could have avoided the space. You didn't. What are you, Captain, except another version of what I am?"

She fought down the bile that came up at his words. He was right in some ways. Chakotay had asked her to leave the space; he'd wanted to take their chances outside of the area. And now he was dead. She'd argued that his approach would have delayed them and that the probability was that the alien would have followed them anyway and might have succeeded in destroying Voyager. From what she knew now, the alien could not have destroyed them. But she hadn't known that then.

But.. she **had** engaged in acts of aggression as a defensive maneuver. There was just enough truth in what the alien said to make her question herself - which was exactly what he wanted. She rejected the thought. He was playing power games - without any power. His only power came from style, attitude, and approach. If Chakotay were here, he'd see through the alien's machinations in a minute, and counsel her accordingly. But he wasn't here. She had to remember.

"I've won this battle. That's enough. It's more than you ever were or ever did. You've used my title with every comment you've made. But you know nothing about the ramifications of its importance. You've failed. You're not my equal; you never will be. You'll die the way you started; a minor cog in a bureaucracy; following orders and unwilling to understand the impact or their ramifications; unable to accept responsibility, justifying your self serving actions in an insidious way until you die."

The alien just looked amused. She finally commented, " Your stupidity will live long after your race is forgotten. Perhaps it will be the only legacy any of you leave. If I had my way, I'd be sure that it was."

She watched for a reaction and saw that she'd finally shaken the alien. She felt a perverse sort of satisfaction in the result. She waited, enjoying his discomfort.

He finally commented, "What do you intend to do with me?"

She breathed in deeply and then exhaled. " Not much. Your people are dead. I had intended to give you over to them, with a long discussion about 'defense', but that's pointless now. I can let you rot in my Brig, but then I'd have to tolerate your presence. I'd prefer to let you suffer somewhere else. And so, I plan to let you off at the next inhabited planet, preferably one that has experience with your 'defensive maneuvers' and let them decide what to do with you."

He finally looked at her directly. "That, of course, would enable me to come back here. I have a mission here. I **will** find a way to enforce it."

She shrugged. "Perhaps. My medical officer tells me that you're dying. You might not make it back. Your mission will end, one way or another. It doesn't matter to me when."

He stared at her. "I will not be sent away."

She smiled. "You have no choice. It's over."

The silence went on for what seemed an eternity. She had no idea why she stayed there, in the room watching him, as he moved, but she felt an obligation to watch. He finally commented, "I have my duties."

"You failed."

"I think we can negotiate."

"What could you possibly have that I might need? I have everything- your ship, the data on the rest of the remotes. Your planet's destroyed; your defense systems are useless. You're done with this destruction. You'll never 'defend' your planet again. What could you possibly have that I'd care about? "

He looked up at that, his eyes burning into her. "I have the coordinates of your crew on the planet."

She stiffened. She refused to consider the possibility. She knew he was evil and determined to shake her. He wasn't going to succeed. "They're dead."

"I hope so. I left them to die where you couldn't track them. I thought you'd come for them and I didn't want them to survive the experience. They needed to suffer." His words shook her confidence; they were spoken too earnestly, too sure. " I'm sure they are suffering, if they're still breathing. I doubt they are. But I think you're the type of race that cares about relics. You'll want the bones, the skin, the bodies… I know where they are."

He was lying. He had to be. In some sick, perverted part of his brain, he understood the importance of loyalty. He was playing her, she was sure of it. She turned away again, disgusted by the evidence of his insanity.

He continued. "I know about your transporter technology. It's ancient. And your sensors are built by children. I've had a hundred years to learn from the others that came here. I have. I beamed your crew to where I wanted them. You'll never find them. "

Janeway hit her comm badge. "B'Elanna, what's the status of the transporter technology on that ship?"

"It's unbelievable, Captain. I was just checking to-"

"Check the data onboard. Is there any indication about a recent beam out from the planet? Where the destination was?"

"Nothing. What -"

"Keep looking. Janeway out."

She stared at the alien. "Name your terms."

"You will restore me to my ship and leave this space."

"You better be damned sure that you're not lying. Because if I don't find them, you'll wish you were still in my Brig by the time I'm done." She beat out the rest of it. "The coordinates - **now**."

"When I'm back in my ship and the tractor's released."

She considered the alternatives. She could just let him die in her Brig, painfully and slowly, away from his planet, his mission failed. He would consider it the worst possible fate, given his obsession. It was a sort of justice. She bit back the thought, sickened by it. " You care a lot about winning. All right, you win. You've succeeded. I agree to the deal."

She hit her comm badge again. "B'Elanna, get your team back to Voyager."

"Captain, I-"

"Now, Lieutenant."

She watched Tuvok as he monitored the transfer. When it was complete, she ordered the alien's beam out.

Tuvok complied. She watched on the Brig viewscreen as the alien resumed control of his ship. "Release the tractor."

Tuvok looked up at her from the console. "Captain, he will go to warp and escape. Are you sure that -"

"What's he going to do, Tuvok? " She looked away. "Even if he's lying, there's nothing more he can do. His systems are destroyed. He's dying." She grimaced. "We'll send out beacons to protect this part of space for the next year. The Doctor says that's as long as he can last. But -it's a gut instinct. If there's any chance he's telling the truth, I believe he'll come through with the real coordinates of the away team's location. He's insane, but it's insanity driven by regulations. It's in his programming. He'll give us the coordinates."

Tuvok finally responded. "Tractor released."

The next few seconds were some of the longest of her life.

"The Eckotonian is sending us coordinates on the planet. He has gone to warp."

"Get them to Paris."

"Already done, Captain."

She had nothing left to do now except wait. She looked briefly at Tuvok and then went to find Chakotay's son.

Section 13

Chakotay woke up aching. His head was trying to split itself apart, every muscle in his body was throbbing, and his skin felt like it was on fire. It gradually occurred to him that he must be alive. He was pretty sure he was in Sickbay, which meant Voyager had made it out of the tractor. His first coherent thought was that he was grateful the ship was safe. His second was amazement that somehow he'd survived the odds. His third was that Kathryn had every right to be really pissed off about the second. He turned his head, trying to shake away the fog. The dizziness told him that moving anything was a really Bad Idea. He laid still for a few minutes and tried to open his eyes slowly. Better.

"Doctor, he's awake." He heard Kes' voice from somewhere in the room, and waited. She and the Doctor weren't long in entering his sight line.

"Welcome back from the dead, Commander."

Chakotay closed his eyes again. He decided tolerating the Doctor's beside humor was a lot to expect of him right now, no matter the circumstances. He tried to slide back into unconsciousness, but the Doctor gave him some sort of hypo. Chakotay felt the worst of his headache subside, and considering that the Doctor was inexplicably quiet, decided to try opening his eyes again.

His mind began to clear. The transport had worked; Dalby had gotten him out of the building. After, they'd had to fight the dust, the darkness and the firestorm. They'd managed to put on the first part of his enviro suit, but couldn't get the helmet on. Chakotay remembered the pain - his skin had felt like it was on fire. It probably had been. Then suddenly, everything had become an unremitting black. Strangely enough, he remembered being able to breathe. And then he'd lost consciousness.

Rather, he knew **now** that what had happened was that he'd lost consciousness. Then, he'd thought he was dying.

"How do you feel?"

Chakotay ignored the Doctor, still focused on his last thought. "Dalby?"

Kes responded. "He's fine, Commander. He saved your life. When the -"

The Doctor broke in acerbically. "Dalby wasn't stupid enough to be caught in an explosion. " The hologram continued, his tone quieting. "I've already released him from Sickbay. He had some first degree burns, dehydration, and bruises. Kes is correct. He's healthy … which is more than I can say for you. You have-"

Chakotay didn't want to hear the litany. He could feel most of it, and what he couldn't feel, he was sure he didn't want to hear about. "What happened?"

Kes finally replied. "Everything's fine, Commander. Voyager's safe. You brought down the shields. The Captain solved the rest."

He tried to talk and instead heard himself stuttering out a nearly incomprehensible set of sentences, all the while trying to use his best command tone. He told them he wanted to see Kolopac and the Captain. And he wanted to know what had happened.

He wasn't sure how much, if any, they'd understood. His best was clearly far less than adequate.

The Doctor finally replied, "Your vocal chords were affected by the fires. You need to rest. The worst of the pain should be subsiding now. I've already contacted the Captain. She asked to be informed when you woke. She'll be down shortly. But right now you need to rest."

He tried again.

Kes seemed to understand part of his questions. "Commander, if you're asking about Kolopac, the answer is that he's fine. I promise he's thriving. The Captain has kept him with her all the time you've been unconscious. He's with the Captain. Do you understand?"

He did. The relief rushed through his system. He hadn't realized how worried he'd been about them both. Kathryn had Kolopac. They were both safe. They were together.

The Ocampan continued. "Everything's all right, Commander. Voyager's completely operational and we're safe. It's over."

He ran Kes' comment through his mind. "It's over." He was sure it probably was. He tried not to consider the consequences of his actions. He felt himself slip into sleep, exhausted.

The next time he awoke he could tell it was evening on the ship. The lights in Sickbay were dimmed to emulate the middle of the night. He looked up and saw Kes staring down at him.

"Hello, Commander. How do you feel?"

He considered the question. Overall, he'd have to say a hell of a lot better; his skin didn't seem hot, and a lot of the pain and the headache was gone. His throat wasn't burning. He tried to speak. "I'm fine." He was relieved when his voice sounded normal and the words came out simply.

Kes' smiled, clearly delighted with his answer. "I'm glad. Would you like something to eat? The Doctor said that it would be all right to give you anything you wanted when you woke."

Oh hell… the Doctor. " No need to activate..."

She broke in, even as she walked away from him towards the replicator. "The Doctor? I won't call him. Besides, he's at the party on the holodeck. I finally convinced him to take a break. Once you were out of danger, he was willing to let me help. I will call him if you're feeling bad, of course. Now, what would you like to eat? Does some soup sound good?"

Chakotay decided he was definitely better. A reprieve from the Doctor's typically acerbic reprimands was a fair trade for any pain he was feeling. "Soup's fine." He watched as Kes programmed something into the replicator, and returned to his biobed.

She helped him sit up. He stared down at the meal, and then lifted a spoon. He was surprised at how hungry he was and how weak he felt. He looked up at Kes. "How long?"

"In total? A week. You spent five days in coma, and it's been thirty-four hours since the last time you woke up. The Doctor said the natural sleep was good for you. He didn't want to wake you."

A week…he'd lost a week. It must have been very bad. In this day and age, a week in coma was unheard of.

Kes continued, seeming to understand his thoughts. "The Doctor was amazing. You had third degree burns over 80% of your body, and most of your bones on your left side were broken. He worked non-stop. If it hadn't been for him, you would have died, Commander."

Chakotay guiltily revised his earlier thoughts about the hologram. "I'll be sure to thank him."

Kes smiled again. "I'm sure you will."

He wanted to see Kathryn and his son. He started to ask, but Kes broke in again.

"Of course, the Captain's been here every day with Kolopac to visit briefly, but she has been very busy. The Doctor's kept her up to date on your progress. " Kes threw him a mysterious smile and continued, "She was here earlier tonight, but she left to go to the party. And the Doctor has convinced her that regular rest is important. My guess is that she and Kolopac have probably been asleep for four hours now."

Chakotay looked back at the Ocampan, confused. He got part of the message. Kathryn was exhausted and the situation had been grim. It would be outrageous to disturb them now, no matter how much he wanted to see them. But he was sure there was something else she was trying to say. He couldn't see it.

Kes continued. "You'll want to know what happened. I assumed you'd want to take look at the logs… it's so much easier and more accurate to see things than to hear about them second-hand. I've set up the station by the biobed. I haven't checked with the Doctor about it, but I doubt that he'll mind."

Chakotay wondered just how long the Ocampan had been arranging things for all of them. Of course, she was right. He should look at the logs before he talked to Kathryn. There was no point in asking Kathryn to relive what had occurred. He needed as much information as possible about what she'd been through before he started blindly articulating his thoughts.

"Thank you, Kes."

She got up and started to take his finished meal away. "You're welcome, Commander."

He stopped her before she left. "Kes, did you say the Captain **agreed** to sleeping regular hours?"

She smiled. "That's right."

He stared at her, completely confused. Another thought came to mind. "What party?"

"The one for Dalby. The Captain arranged it to celebrate his commendation for saving you. She also scheduled him for the Brig tomorrow for disobeying orders and lying to commanding officers. He doesn't seem to mind, though." Kes looked back at him calmly. "It's all in the logs, Commander. I have some work I need to do in the Doctor's office, so I'll be nearby. If you need me, just call."

Chakotay stared at her exiting figure. **Kathryn** had agreed to sleep. And… **Kathryn** had set up a party for Dalby. He thought it through; a commendation, a party and the Brig. It was the perfect answer. Dalby had gone out his way to save him, but he'd also gone against orders. Dalby would find the commendation amazing, the party amusing, and the Brig an appropriate ending to the tale. Chakotay shook his head. A lot appeared to have changed while he'd been unconscious. He turned toward the terminal, and began reading.

An hour later, he stopped examining the logs and closed the file he was reading, exhausted again. Most of the story was clear. Dalby had succeeded in pulling him out of the facility using the site to site. They'd managed to get his enviro suit on, and then the alien had beamed them into another underground structure. Like the first, it had had breathable air, but that was where the comparison stopped. This installation had been deliberately sabotaged. Knowing the story of the Eckotonians as he did now, Chakotay thought that the building must have belonged to the losers of the war. The alien had clearly spent years systematically destroying what was left.

Chakotay tried to conjure up an image of the interior, but he couldn't remember anything about the installation. Still, Dalby's terse report told him enough. Dalby had pumped him full of pain killers from the emergency kits in the suits to keep him from going into shock and to keep him unconscious. And then he'd spent the next twenty-four hours in complete darkness, alone with no hope of rescue. Chakotay shook his head. The Eckotonian could give the Cardassians a run for their latnium when it came to terror.

One thing was sure; he owed Dalby. He grimaced. So, what else was new? Memories of the Maquis came rushing back to him. He put them aside and looked back at the report. He smiled briefly as he reread Dalby's comments about Paris. Paris had come in, phasers blazing, like one of the man's favorite characters from 20th century B westerns. Chakotay remembered vaguely having been conned into watching one once with Paris. Once was enough. He smiled and then stopped himself. None of it was funny. Dalby and Paris had gone far beyond what was humanly possible to keep him alive. And they'd succeeded. He needed to thank them both.

Chakotay rubbed his eyes and then his temples. The headache had resurfaced, and the muscles in his back felt like they'd solidified into rock. The Doc was bound to show up any minute now. He shut down the workstation and ordered the computer to dim the lights.

Closing his eyes, he forced himself to finally review mentally the part he'd been avoiding. Kathryn had handled the situation brilliantly; she'd quickly identified how Voyager had been caught and found a way to break them free. And afterward, her measures against the Eckotonian had been just and humane. He'd been right. He'd known she'd never let personal considerations get in the way of her performance and she hadn't.

And, once again, he'd been stupid and incredibly wrong. It was obviously getting to be a habit. It wasn't hard to read what wasn't in the reports. After they'd broken out of the tractor, she'd nearly taken Tuvok's head off and then barricaded herself in her Ready Room. While leaving the Bridge might be normal for another captain after a crisis had subsided, for Kathryn it was unheard of until she was sure the mission had normalized. She'd been precipitate in her actions, which told him that the situation had shaken her. She'd probably beaten herself up about leaving the away teams on the planet long past after they were due back, and only the universe knew what kind of conversation she'd had with Tuvok once she'd come back on duty. He winced. The final piece of data that gave him some indication to her state of mind was the logs from the Brig, when she'd been talking to the alien. She'd looked like she literally wanted to murder the man with her bare hands. Chakotay'd seen her angry before, but he'd never seen her so coldly furious.

She'd been right all along about the odds of his surviving and to be wary of establishing a personal relationship with him. The Delta quadrant was too uncertain, too dangerous, to chance building a life together. It was too imperfect of a universe to take that kind of risk here.

He shifted onto his right side, trying to ease the pain in his back, tired of thinking about all of it. In a perfect universe, he would have woken up feeling fine. Uhuh, and in a perfect universe, he would have woken up to the sight of Kathryn Janeway and his son smiling down at him, happy to see him.

He shifted again, taking the idea one step further. In a perfect universe, there would have been no Eckotonians, no Cardassians and no need for the Maquis. And in that version of the universe, Kolopac would never have been born, and he would never have known Kathryn. He gave up the thought, quit feeling sorry for himself, and thanked the spirits that he wasn't in charge of deciding what a perfect universe would be. Whatever came, he'd try to accept with as much grace as possible.

Section 14

Eight hours later, Chakotay stood in front of the holodeck door and swallowed. Getting to the door had been remarkably easy compared to actually opening it. Odd, how that worked. He supposed it wasn't surprising that he was choking now, considering the individuals involved.

To get out of Sickbay all he'd had to do was get through to the Doctor. Admittedly, that hadn't exactly been easy. It'd taken a while and he'd learned a lot. And he had a lot of recommendations and plans for how to help the EMH adjust to humans that he hoped to implement because of the conversation. But still, that was relatively reasonable and easy activity for an XO, or even for a captain.

On the other hand, when he opened the door, he'd have to face Kathryn Janeway. A sensible man understood when and where to cower. He smiled slightly, remembering the last two hours.

He'd woken up in Sickbay in mid-morning determined to accomplish what was obviously impossible: he was going to get out of there, and he was going to talk to Kathryn - preferably in that order. Considering that the first thing he saw was the EMH scowling down at him, the odds were definitely not in his favor.

He smiled docilely at the Doctor as he sat up and tried a cheerful and noncommittal opening. "Good morning."

The Doctor was clearly unimpressed. "It's nearly afternoon. How do you feel?"

"Better. I'm okay."

The EMH shook his head and began scanning. "'Better.' An articulate and enlightening response. I expect you would like me to use the same precision to describe your medical condition." He stopped scanning for moment, and said sarcastically, " It will take a while, but you're going to be 'fine,' - not that you had anything to do with it."

Chakotay shifted, annoyed, and fought down his irritation. All right, so maybe his response **had** been moronic, considering that it was the Doc who'd asked. But that was no reason for the EMH to respond aggressively… or was it? Except for Kes, the Voyager crew treated the hologram and his work like a necessary evil to be avoided at all costs. Chakotay was no exception.

The EMH seemed not to notice Chakotay's introspection. "The Captain was here with Kolopac an hour ago. She asked to be called if you woke."

Chakotay broke in. "No. Not right now. That is, I want to talk to you first." When the hologram looked suspicious, Chakotay continued quickly. " I want to thank you for saving my life. Kes said your work was brilliant. I would like to hear about it and I'd like a detailed assessment about what I need to do to get back to normal."

The Doctor looked cynical and then gradually flabbergasted. "You're serious."

"Yes." The Doctor started scanning him again. "What are you doing?"

"Checking for concussion."

Chakotay let his irritation resurface. " I can do without the sarcasm, Doctor. I'll read the reports. "

In the end, he and the Doctor had come to an understanding; one that Chakotay hoped would last for them both for a very long time. The immediate result had been a mutually agreed upon truce, one in which Chakotay promised to keep the monitors on and return to Sickbay. But he'd also been able to convince the Doctor to let him see the Captain on his own terms - on the holodeck, where she was currently relaxing with Kolopac.

Chakotay smiled at the memory, took a deep breath and opened the holodeck door.

He stared, astonished, at the scene in front of him. Kathryn was running his program of the canyons. It was the last possible scenario he expected. Given what had happened, he'd thought that anything personal would be what she'd most want to avoid.

It was a glorious fall day; he remembered how beautiful he'd thought it when he'd taken the holovid. It was beautiful still - a perfect moment to be relived again and again. He just hoped Kathryn saw it the same way.

The river was a ribbon of blue emmeshed a band of bright orange grasses and shrubs extending as far as he could see. He looked over to the left and up towards the sky. The canyon walls were high here, their color a deep rust. Overhead, the early afternoon sky was cloudless, its clarity reflected in the darker blue of the running stream.

He followed the stream up-canyon, walking along the bank through the gold leaves of the cottonwoods, to where the stream became shallow and subdued and the walls of the canyon closed in around him. The water rolled quietly like crystals over stones of all shapes and colors. All around fantastical shapes made of sandstone, streaked with black and light golds, reflected the sun.

The sun beat down on him. He crouched down to rest, took off his jacket, and wiped his face with water from the stream to cool down. There was silence, except for the occasional cry of a bird and the sound of the running stream. The silence was soothing, a balm to his thoughts of what might come.

Then he heard Kathryn's laughter echoing off the canyon walls. He turned the next bend, and saw her sitting on the side of the stream. She was out of uniform in the middle of the day. More amazingly, she was digging her bare toes into the sand while holding Kolopac, swinging the boy up into the air and then down again to the water, laughing when he squealed.

They looked incredibly happy. Kathryn was beautiful - relaxed, laughing, calm. He'd never seen her look so at peace with her world.

He stood silently, mesmerized, unable to react as a myriad of conflicting emotions coursed through him.

Something he'd done must have alerted her to his presence, because she turned her head quickly and stood up. She was smiling. It was the most brilliant smile he'd ever seen in his life.

He closed his eyes.

"Chakotay? "

He stopped himself from rushing over to them, from behaving like he was a bit player in the ending of a bad holovid. She wouldn't appreciate the dramatics, and it'd be a hell of an awkward thing to do after all that had gone on. Of course she was glad to see him. He was alive after all, and that was something. She'd remember all that had happened in a moment. They'd gotten through this disaster, but the next one was just around the corner.

Showing up in the holodeck unannounced had been yet another one of his **really** bad ideas. He should have left her alone, in peace, relaxing in the few moments she had of that with his son. But he could hardly turn tail and run now that he was here.

He opened his eyes again and saw what he'd expected to see, as Kathryn's smile dimmed and she looked away from him.

"I imagine you came to see Kolopac." She walked over to him, her command posture in place.

When she handed him his son, he finally felt his immobility break. He grabbed the boy, hugging Kolopac tightly at first, and then found himself needing to check the child over carefully. Stupid; he knew the boy was fine.

Kolopac was filthy, full of sand from head to toe, smiling and squealing, still excited from his play. His small fists looked like they'd gotten bigger. Ridiculous. He could hardly have grown much in a week. Even so, Chakotay felt some of the knots in his stomach unknot now that he'd seen for himself that his son was fine.

He just wished he could get rid of the rest of the knots as easily. Now that he was here, he had no idea what to say to Kathryn - so much for all of his detailed planning. He looked over to where she now sat, her back up against the canyon wall. She was watching him, her expression calm and concerned.

He looked away and back at his child.

She broke the silence. "You must have used quite a maneuver to get the Doc to let you out of Sickbay. When I talked to him this morning, he was determined to make you stay put for a while. How do you feel?"

He walked over and sat down next to her, his eyes still on his son. "I'm fine, Kathryn. I wanted to see Kolopac and I needed to make sure everything was all right."

"I understand. " She kept her tone deliberately casual and light. "So what's your expert opinion on how Kolopac's doing?"

He put the boy down in the trickle of the stream, where Kolopac began splashing delightedly in the water. "He's happy, and he's safe." He paused and finally looked at her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. "

He let silence settle between them, feeling less awkward, but still uncertain about what to say.

He finally decided procrastination laced with humor was the safest form of cowardice. After all, they could hardly go on sitting there without talking forever. And he had been the one who had forced this interaction.

"The Doc and I worked out a compromise. I'm allowed out of Sickbay for the afternoon as long as I stay on the holodeck, keep the monitor on, and go back there when we're done talking." He paused and then added lightly, " He told me to tell you you're not allowed to court-martial me until next week."

She grimaced. "If that was supposed to be a joke, you've lost your touch. I can hardly court-martial you for following the regs literally for what has to be the first time in recorded history on Voyager."

She sighed. "Why? For heavens sake, Chakotay…"

He broke in, trying to avoid an argument by using humor as a defense. Admittedly, humor hadn't worked the first time. But he could always try again. "I know. I'm sorry. It was an aberration. I'll work on it."

Her voice was calm and there was amused resignation in her tone. "The universe protect me from a consistent XO. Surprise I can handle; consistency might kill me. "

He looked at her questioningly, taken aback by her reply.

She shrugged, and said seriously, "I know you'll do whatever you think will keep Voyager, Kolopac and me safe and that you'll do that ethically, conscience intact. That's enough. Following the regs, not following the regs… well, they're just rules, after all. I've had enough of blindly following regs to last quite a while, probably a lifetime."

"Kathryn?" Chakotay stared at the woman he swore was the Captain of Voyager, a woman he was certain he'd spent the last three years conscientiously providing rationalizations to in order to explain precisely why breaking the regs was part of the regs- well, at least he thought he had. He was pretty sure that was the main point of the job of being an XO for Kathryn Janeway.

She put her hand to her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry. It was an aberration. I'll work on it."

He felt some of the knots in his stomach release as he saw her smile up at him, her eyes twinkling at the joke. She commented, "Better?"

He shook his head in the affirmative. "Better."

She smiled again. "Thank heavens. You've been as jittery as a jitkanta since you walked in the door."

He decided to give back as good as he got. "I'm never jittery. It's not in my genetics."

She smiled again. "Of course not. You're never jittery; just stoic. The more nervous you are, the more stoic you get. And with the exception of your interaction with Kolopac, I'd say a block of ice was a lot less calm and controlled than you've been since you've walked in. Take it for what it's worth, Commander."

He let the message slide over him, saying nothing, wondering when it was that she'd learned to read him so well.

Her expression became contemplative as she turned to look at the stream and at Kolopac. "You're right, of course. We do need to talk and to get all of this straightened out. We've been putting it off for too long."

He felt some of the knots retie.

He should have left this conversation for later, rather than trying to force discussion. He felt like he was on an emotional pendulum, swinging back and forth at the slightest nuance in her tone. It didn't help that he wasn't healthy. His reactions and his interpretations were bound to be skewed. He shifted.

She reacted immediately. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged his shoulder, rotating his arm. "The shoulder feels like a damned.. well, it's not important. It just hurts."

"Not surprising, considering that the Doc reconstructed it from splinters. You should be in bed."

He rotated his shoulder again. "Probably."

He broke in before she could continue in the same vein, trying to deflect her thoughts from his health.

"I saw the logs, Kathryn. The way you deciphered the alien technology was brilliant, and your handling of the Eckotonian was just and humane. If the circumstances were different, I don't think I could have done the same."

She looked away from him at Kolopac, who was now crawling through the stream. "You would have found a better way. But as for what happened, well, it was certainly an enlightening experience."

He wondered if her deliberate reticence came from a general concern about his well-being or from something else. He waited for her to continue, but she stayed silent.

She seemed content to watch his son playing amongst the water and the rocks, although every now and then she looked off to her right, to a spot on the ground he couldn't quite see from where he was currently positioned.

He leaned back up against the canyon wall, and relaxed, waiting. Whatever would come, he could accept. The peace of the place, and the beauty of the light as it shown on the canyon was healing emotionally and spiritually. He let it wash over him, resting.

Kathryn finally commented, "You might want to see what Kolopac and I have been doing." She gestured to her right and moved slightly so he could see what she'd been working on.

"We've been building sandcastles."

His mood lightened further as he imagined the Captain of Voyager digging around in wet sand building indiscernible replicas of Earth's medieval fortresses for his son.

He looked over to where she pointed, and stopped. She'd created a perfect replica of Voyager out of the sand.

"The only problem, of course, is that your son is extremely adept at breaking down walls. That's definitely genetic. He's taken a distinct dislike to the separations on decks 6-8, sections 5-11. I suspect we may have to consider his recommendation. It is the most logical place for Voyager to house families. There will be more than ours someday. But I do think he's in error about the holes he keeps digging in the hull. Not a good idea, that one."

Their family… he was sure he'd heard her say that. He had to stop imagining things. She'd just been building what was most important to her. She often called the Voyager crew a family. She wasn't being specific.

He felt all of his senses re-engage. She always had a reason for what she did. She never let go. He should have known better than to relax.

"Why are you here, Kathryn?"

"Ah…you mean this program? I thought it was important for Kolopac to see his heritage."

He shook his head. "The Anasazi aren't his heritage."

"I wasn't referring to them. This is your place; your history, somewhere you loved. I thought he should get to know it now."

She looked around her. "It's glorious here. It's a perfect day - everything is so fresh and so alive."

She continued. "We've been learning from other sand castles. They do well as a model. " She pointed up towards the ruin, shining in the sunlight above her.

Chakotay looked up at the ruin. It was a small compared to most archeological finds in the area, and it had been hidden until well into the 22nd century. At its prime only forty, perhaps fifty, people had lived here, but it had been the nerve center of the surrounding canyons. In total, Redbrooke had estimated that nearly another hundred had made their home here for two centuries, living in ever widening spokes around the center. Chakotay thought that was a generous estimate. All the outlying areas had eventually gone to rubble, so it was difficult to be sure.

None-the-less, the ruin Kathryn was pointing to was admittedly still spectacularly beautiful and amazingly intact by anyone's measures. The building blocks were carefully composed of equal sized stones harvested from the canyons, still strong and vital after over a thousand years. But more incredible was that the interior of this ruin was perfectly preserved. Panels of paintings, the reds and blacks still vibrant and clear, and pottery vessels with a myriad of decoration were perfectly preserved.

He couldn't see any reason for Kathryn to be interested in something of what was admittedly minor historical value even in Earth's history, let alone the Federation, no matter its beauty. There were far more majestic and beautiful places than this to be seen, even in their travels in the Delta quadrant. He waited.

"You know, I remember you mentioning sand castles once. You called them a child's fantasy creation. You were wrong, Chakotay. There are sand castles in front of us that are far more than a child's dream."

He didn't understand her. He was tired, his body aching. He'd had enough of fallacious interpretations and inexplicable connections to last a lifetime. "They're the decaying ruins of a dead civilization."

"No. They're the enduring legacy of a people lost from history. They're the representation of their dreams and the evidence of how they lived. You told me that once. I wasn't sure then; I believe you now. "

She paused and picked up some wet sand, smoothing over the lines of her replica of Voyager. "I've been doing some reading about the ancient ones. The common theory is that they faced insurmountable odds, from famine, or perhaps outside attack, and so moved on, joining with other tribes, developing the heritage of many peoples. They met their challenges and learned from them, moving on to create and build something new."

He shook his head, still confused. It was unlike her to be abstract, to speak in generalities about irrelevant issues when they had concrete problems to discuss. He said impatiently, "There's also strong evidence to indicate that they were cannibals and that the civilization decayed from within, finally destroying itself."

She shrugged. "I saw that theory as well. There **is **a lot of evidence to indicate that there was a splinter group that enjoyed terror for its own sake or for the power it could provide. But I don't believe that's where the story ends. They weren't like the Eckotonians. They weren't defeated by blood, chaos and paranoia. They may have lost the battle, Chakotay, but they didn't lose in the end. They moved on, creating new civilizations and new traditions."

He stayed silent, annoyed at her presumption of trying to interpret the history of a race to which she had no connection, and then got annoyed at himself for his own presumption. He had no connection either. His interpretations and premises were no better than anyone else's. He stayed silent, realizing she was correct in that his only right to connections to the canyons had to do with his own memories, and love of the place. She'd said she'd come here because it was **his** tradition that she wanted to teach Kolopac. In that, she was right.

Kathryn broke the silence. " I know we'll probably never know the whole story. I wish we could know what they were thinking. But all we can do is learn from what's left. In the end, a people's legacy is what they represent to others. And in this case, Chakotay - look around you at the beauty, the quiet, the wild of this place. You taught me to appreciate that. And now, I want to believe that they were in touch with their world, and that they understood who they were and what they wanted to accomplish. I do believe that they were the light, not the darkness. That's the most anyone can hope for. "

He thought again about inexplicable connections and why the Captain of Voyager might have chosen this place as a refuge. She always had a reason.

"What did you do with the Eckotonian's files?"

"Sent them out on beacons all over this area of space. If anyone does come here in the future, they'll have the story as well as the warning. Perhaps hearing about the darkness will help others understand their choices about the light. "

"Kathryn, are you done with the analogy?"

She smiled. "Pretty lousy, huh?"

"Terrible. The best way to construct analogies is to present what appears to be fiction to the listener. It shouldn't be obvious that the tale is hypothesis based on partial data. "

She shrugged. "I'll keep that in mind for the future. I'm new to the story telling process, but I thought I'd give it a try. And in my defense, you did just walk in the door. I didn't have time to prepare. And I'm not sure you've followed your own recommendation so well in the past. "

He shook his head, moving his fingers through the stream, watching the waves they created.

He refuted the implied connection she was making to his comments on New Earth simply by refusing to respond. " It's not like you to romanticize or even hypothesize about anyone's intentions when there's so little information available. It's not your style."

She finally replied. "People change. Perhaps the analogy was bad, but it **was** what I was thinking about before - a people's legacy, and their dreams, and how to create a future by living well each day. I wanted to try to explain what I was thinking, but I'm not as good a storyteller as you are, Chakotay. I doubt I ever will be. But I do think it's time for me to learn. I'd like you to help me with that. There's so much I'd like to know. "

"There's nothing to teach. You know as much as I do about the business, Kathryn. And anyway, storytelling is a useless sport in the Delta quadrant. It's ultimate goal has always been to convey tradition orally from generation to generation. That's not important here. It never will be. We'll get back, and other traditions will take precedence, or we won't and then nothing we've done will matter. Telling tales is a luxury we can't afford. It's meant to last longer than we have left. "

She stayed silent, watching Kolopac as he played in the stream. She finally said, "We do need to talk about the future. We can't continue this way any longer."

Chakotay grimaced, wanting to avoid the discussion now that she'd come to the point. He didn't want to hear what he was sure she was going to say. "The last time we talked about the future you told me that we couldn't plan for it because it wasn't going to be there. You said Kolopac was the only future either of us had."

"I was wrong. Kolopac isn't our future. He has his own path." She smiled. "Besides, I wouldn't want to put that kind of baggage on the boy; legacies be damned. Kolopac's our present, and we need to pay attention and enjoy watching him grow in his own way, and in his own time. He has his own future. We had a number of conversations while you were unconscious. I think we've come to a reasonable understanding."

Chakotay looked to his son, and saw him crawling determinedly up stream, towards the deep water. "And he's going to drown if we don't so something soon." He started to get up. "Kathryn…"

"For heavens sakes, Chakotay, I have child proofed this program with triple safties. Quit avoiding the conversation and sit down. He's fine. He's loved, healthy, happy, safe, and he's exploring. What more can you ask for a nine month old? Or for any of us, for that matter?"

He settled back, resting against the rock again. He finally joked, " Do you really think we should teach him that he can walk… uhum.. crawl on water?"

She smiled. "Well, I think he can. As I said, I've had some rather enlightening conversations with him recently. You should try it sometime. "

Her voice took on a tone of calm resignation as she continued. "We've both been at fault. You've spent far too much of your life letting your past inform the present -your relations with your tribe, and then later the Maquis, and your regret about your father- made you stop being willing to try for what you want. I've spent far too much time focused on the future, letting my predictions control my present actions… will we/ won't we get home, expectations of what Janeways are supposed to do...well, none of it matters right now."

"What does matter to you?"

"I - that's a difficult question to answer."

He finally said carefully, " You were right about the lifespan projections. We have to take them seriously."

She looked back at her sand replica, repairing a small break. " Yes, I was right about that. You're supposed to be dead right now. I saw it happen and I gave the order to make it happen."

"I'm sorry."

She looked up at that. "For what? That you lived through it? Starfleet was right when they did the analysis on your ship. You have unbelievable, impossible luck."

Her next comment was calm and resigned, with humor in her tone. "You're blowing the stats all to hell, you know. Tuvok's even considering rewriting the program. He claims the Delta Quadrant has too many additional variables. He mumbled something about Maquis, too." She shook her head. " I have *never* heard a Vulcan mumble before, and I lived on the planet for nearly five years."

She shrugged and finally continued. "Right now I suspect he thinks you're going to outlive us all and die of old age. It should be an interesting program when he's done."

"Works for me."

Even as he said the words, flippantly responding, he realized he'd blown it again. But he was suddenly incredibly angry. She was too calm, too smug, too sure. She was joking with him, ironically validating that her view of their relationship was right, in her all seeing, all rightous perspective on the universe. He was 'just lucky'. Yeah, right. The damnedest thing of was that she WAS right, and he'd been determined to keep calm, and now he'd blown the whole discussion up again, by acting like he didn't care about any of it.

She hadn't said a word, her head still down. He broke in, before one of them said something irretrievable. "Look. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. Your point of view is right. The stats do matter. It's really all right, Kathryn. I -"

She looked up, her eyes burning through him. "*Don't* - don't you dare start with the 'it's all right' stuff. It's not. It 's not all right. You're supposed to be dead. And here you are. Shit - at this rate, you probably **will** die of old age, and outlive us all." She paused and took a deep breath. "Damn it, I thought I had this worked out. "

She rubbed her eyes, saying more to herself than to him, "What the hell am I supposed to do with you?"

He thought of all the obvious answers. Live with me, love me, trust that we'll be together. But he couldn't say it, not anymore, so he tried for levity again, to break the tension. "Well, you could-"

"*Don't , damn it, I'm not done. Just stow it and listen. And that's an order, Commander."

He "stowed it." And listened.

" I had this worked out. I knew what I needed to say… how the hell do you make me so angry?"

"Probably genetic." It slipped out before he could kick himself. She looked ready to kill him. He felt a perverse sort of pleasure in the realization that he'd shaken her out of her calm condescension.

She finally responded. "You want the truth? You can have it. At first, I fully planned to murder you myself if you did survive. What the *hell* were you thinking to order that attack? What *is* it that makes you so crazy? The Kazon, Seska, that kid, - the list just goes on. You set yourself up and then you survive it. It's insane."

She stopped, shook her head, and then stared at the river again. He kept quiet, waiting.

"Do you know what was the worst part? Not when I ordered the destruction. And not that we looked for what seemed like forever. It was that the whole time, when we were looking for you, when I thought you were dead, all I could feel was regret. No grief, no paralysis, just regret and anger at myself because I'd let all of it slip away from us. Regret because I knew, right then, that I was going to spend the rest of my life wondering what it might have been like if I'd let you convince me to 'let go'. Commander, if there is a hell, I would have damned you to it right then."

"I'm sorry. You don't need to say any more."

"No, stop it, damn it. I want to finish this. I thought I'd gotten past this, and clearly I haven't so you're just going to have to sit there and listen." She paused, breathing slowly, and finally said, "And so I'm angry - at myself, and at you, and at the damned delta quadrant. Nothing here makes sense. Nothing's predictable. Nothing. And what am I supposed to do about that? Oh, I know. Life's not predictable. But, hell - I'd give it all up right now for some sane predictable solution. Even if it meant that we both died in bed tomorrow."

"You can't."

"I know I can't."

"I know that. You've made a bad choice with me, Kathryn. As an ass, I probably head the list. I *can* live with what you're offering- I was just too arrogant to ask what you really meant. It's a lot - more than I ever dreamed was possible. To know that if we make it, that you'd come with me to Danab V - that's enough for any man in one lifetime. The rest - the fear, the distance, well, I wish we could handle it better together, but I'm not you, I'm not captaining this ship, and only you can decide it in the end."

"Chakotay, that's not what I'm trying to say."

He broke in again. " Do you want to know what I thought about on the planet in those last minutes? It was about you, and about how you were right, and how I should have protected you and how I wouldn't have let you take a chance on us if I had it to do all over again. So now I do - have that chance. I understand regret. I understand what you're feeling. I won't ask anything of you again. I just wish you weren't so … damned certain about everything. "

"You don't understand anything at all, certainly not me. And that offer's no longer open. I've changed -"

He started to get up, to walk away and just leave the conversation, but she'd already beaten him to that. She was kneeling, facing him. Then she grabbed his face in her hands, leaned into him and kissed him.

He fell back, her body weight forcing him against the rock. Sheer shock forced him into immobility. He felt her hands on his head, in his hair, touching him, her body resting on his, her legs entwined with his. The heady and familiar sensation of holding her washed over him. He'd never expected to hold her again. It was intoxicating him, making it hard to think, only to feel. He put his arms around her and deepened the kiss, feeling her response. He opened his eyes and saw her staring back at him. There was something in her eyes that he'd never seen before.

He pushed her off of him. It was always just what he wanted to see. Nothing had changed. He put his wrist to his mouth, trying to wash the encounter away, and to wash away the hurt of it. "You don't need to use sex to solve the problem, Kathryn. Just say what you want and get it over with."

She scrambled to her knees awkwardly, pushing herself up and staring at him angrily. "If this wasn't partially my fault, I'd deck you for that." She wiped the sand out of her eyes. "Chakotay, I'm trying to tell you you've been right all along."

"Fine. If you'll just get out of the way -"

"No. I won't get out of the way. Listen. You *were * right. You *are* right. I'm sorry I let everything between us get so confused. We need to build something here, in the Delta quadrant, that's beyond textbooks, or statistics, or logic, or predictions. It's possible - it's real - we've proven we can."

"Kathryn, I can't take another one of your theories. I'm tired of them. Let it go. It's over."

"It's not over. I've been trying to tell you I love you. "

The verbal impact of her words was worse than her physical attempt to connect with him. He fell back against the rock again, and stared at her. "What?"

She swallowed. "I love you. I have for a long time, and I do now, and I want very much to continue to do so as long as I live. I thought you should know."

He closed his eyes, refusing to accept her words. "You don't need to do this, Kathryn. You don't need to make a commitment to me because of guilt or regret. "

"I'm not. I'm telling you what matters to me. You asked. You matter. Kolopac matters, and the crew and my ship matter to me. And I do love you. "

She continued quickly, seeming wary of his possible response. He decided that had to be his imagination. "As for regret… well, I **have** learned a lot about regret lately, but not what you think. Regret focuses too much on the past. 'I should have'…it's an excuse to avoid the present. But it's not as bad as my favorite, the 'if.. then' logic that supposedly helped me predict the future. That particular demon makes it possible to walk through life completely oblivious to the present."

"You're right. I don't understand."

"I'm not surprised. I'm not good at this; at explaining why I feel what I feel."

He waited.

"You're going to make me explain, aren't you?"

He stayed silent.

"The point is that I understand now what you were trying to tell me. I've loved you for a long time now, Chakotay, or I wouldn't have started what is between us, or the sex. I just couldn't reconcile it with what I thought the future would be. I thought what we'd agreed to was the simplest way out of the problem."

"It was. It still is. You don't need to change it. I'm not asking it of you."

She was clearly irritated by his response. "Stop lying, Chakotay. You don't get to play the wounded or the martyr. Not this time. You were a part of this little charade as well, and I'll be damned if I'll take all the responsibility."

"The point is I'm willing to take the risk of acknowledging how I feel now because I understand the question and the parameters. I know now that while we both can learn from the past and hope for the future, neither should replace the present. And you know, I do believe that, the present, our present, lived well will inform and might even change both the past and the future. You taught me that. You just weren't paying attention."

When he didn't respond, she joked. "I really do hate time travel. Gives me a headache. I just never thought of it before quite so clearly within the framework of my own lifespan and thoughts." She smiled. "I suspect that's your fault as well. "

He tried to absorb her comments and her intent, thinking but he was too tired to do anything except take a real chance this time. He wasn't willing to qualify what he felt for her convenience or benefit anymore. It was time to be done with the story. " Computer, activate audio taping." After he heard it start up, he commented, "All right, Kathryn, if you're serious, repeat it. "

"Chakotay, what are you going to do with a tape? Save it for posterity? I thought you understood that this is about now, about the present. I want this to last between us, but I can't promise anything will. I can't and won't try to control the future anymore. I just want to live now."

He stared at her and finally said, "Computer, activate ship-wide intercom." She looked at him, astonished. He shrugged. "Go ahead, Captain. It's your call."

He meant the challenge seriously. They needed to end the farce and eliminate the façade of commitment between them. A private acknowledgement that she loved him was just one more step on the slippery path he'd be on - leaving him hoping someday there might be more when there wouldn't be. Enough was enough. He called her bluff in the most public way he could think of. He waited, tensed. He leaned back against the canyon wall and closed his eyes.

Janeway shrugged and didn't miss a beat in her response. "Janeway to Voyager. Commander Chakotay has requested a public acknowledgment and clarification of the status of off duty interpersonal relations between the two members of the executive command team. Speaking for myself, I can unequivocally state that the status is that of a permanently committed partnership. This will in no way effect the operational command structure of this ship. Lt. Tuvok will be delighted to answer any questions you may have. Janeway out."

Chakotay kept his eyes closed, noted that his pulse was racing, and decided he'd reached the stage of hallucination. The Doctor had mentioned possible concussion. That had to be it.

" I can't believe you just did that. The Doctor ...uhh...well, I ... maybe sickbay is a good idea. "

"Coward."

He took a deep breath and finally said, "Could you repeat that?... uhh, not the coward part. That part I think I got. "

He could hear exasperation in the way she released her breath. He decided it was a good sign. "I just announced publicly to the entire damned ship that I love you. "

He shook his head. "You know, that's what I thought you said."

He started laughing slightly hysterically and said the first thing that came to mind. "I can't believe you did that to Tuvok."

She smiled. "Tuvok is probably as relieved as a Vulcan can be. The last week or so has been trying for him."

"I don't -"

"I'll explain that later. Do you finally believe me?"

Did he believe her? He supposed he had to, but there was still an underlying worry gnawing at him. He did the first thing he thought of. He leaned over and kissed her.

She responded immediately. He felt elation and peace and excitement course through him when he saw the promise in her eyes. It was a heady combination. This time he wasn't imagining the commitment. He felt his pulse racing and his breathing became shallow.

She broke away from him gently. "Do you finally believe me?"

He laughed, completely entranced, and felt adrenaline rush through him. He answered by kissing her again. She seemed content with his reply.

Chakotay wasn't sure how long they'd been oblivious to the world, when she pulled away from him again. He sat up, tried to calm his breathing and looked at her questioningly.

She smiled. "I'm waiting, Chakotay."

"What?" He looked at her, confused, and then blanched. "You don't really want me to -"

She broke in. "No, I don't need a public announcement broadcast all over the ship, although it might be worth it just to watch you squirm."

"Thank the spirits." He stared at her, still in shock, and then her expression finally registered. It was the "you're definitely a dead man in ten seconds look." He'd seen it before, but there was something else behind it. He realized in amazement that there was real worry under the facade.

"Kathryn, you know I love you. I've told you before. I still do. I always will."

She leaned back against the rock and grabbed his hand. "That's a start."

He stared down at their hands, intertwined. "What else?"

She closed her eyes and smiled. "A few accolades on my perfection of form and feature, brilliance, and sparkling personality generally would be in order."

He sat up and turned her head with his free hand to face him. "Kathryn Janeway, you are the most exasperating, confusing and stubborn woman I've ever met. I can't imagine living without you."

She grinned at him. "Not bad, considering your currently desiccated health. I expect sonnets to my eyes, though, when you've made a full recovery."

He decided that she was definitely getting the upper hand in the discussion. " No sonnets."

She raised her eyebrow, almost an exact imitation of Tuvok. "Not even one?"

"Nope. I don't do sonnets. The deal's off if you expect sonnets."

She opened her eyes and sat up, her expression suddenly serious. "Then I want stories."

He cocked his head to one side, studying her carefully, concerned at her sudden change in tone. "What are you asking, Kathryn?"

"You're a story teller, Chakotay. And stories are NOT a useless sport in the Delta quadrant. They teach us about the past, help us understand the present, and give us hope for the future. I need you to help me with all of those things. I want you to help me live all the stories."

She continued. "I'm not being unrealistically optimistic. I know the odds haven't changed." She gestured toward the ruin again. "But we can learn from others. I want to build our own sand castle here. Voyager may be the only relic that's left in the end, steel and space, instead of a shell of sand, but I want to let her live vibrantly in the present, telling the tale of who we are and what we dream. Maybe we'll get home, and we can tell the stories ourselves, or maybe, like the Anasazi, we'll end up a mystery for the Delta Quadrant to wonder over someday. But whatever happens, I want us to live well now. That alone will tell a tale for others in the end. Will you help me ?"

"I - gods, Kathryn, that's a lot to ask."

"I know. I have more. You have to really be willing to try to see a future with me, and let go of the past. Can you?"

Her eyes were serious, boring into him with the question. He finally responded, understanding the seriousness of the commitment she was asking for. " I can try. It's the best I can do, Kathryn. But I swear I will do that."

Her body relaxed from it's tense position, and she leaned back again. "Thank you."

He leaned back against the rock himself and closed his eyes, savoring the perfect silence between them. Knowing Kathryn and him, it was bound to be short in duration. He grinned, imagining the conversations to come. He finally ventured a question. "Is there anything else, Kathryn?"

She cleared her throat. He opened his eyes and looked at her suspiciously. It was a nervous cough, if he ever heard one. Something was up. "Kathryn?"

"Well, yes, there are a few more details we should probably discuss."

"Like what?"

She looked slightly flustered and highly annoyed. It was a combination he'd never seen before, and would have sworn she was incapable of. He smiled, even as he started to worry.

"Honestly, Chakotay, this should be obvious. I can't make an announcement like that without there being a few practical consequences."

He stared at her suspiciously. " Give, Kathryn. And they better not be parameters."

"Of course not."

"Could you please get this over with? What consequences?"

She shifted, suddenly awkward. " They're entirely practical issues. For example, you can't go back to your quarters for another three days."

"Why not?"

"The crews haven't finished taking down the walls. I have no idea how you thought you were going to manage the remodeling you specked out in an evening." She shifted again, thinking. "Of course, the delay may be due to some of the enhancements I added. How you thought you were going to fit two workstations into that area.. well, it just wasn't effective."

"Kathryn?" He looked at her in complete astonishment.

"What?" She shook her head. " Oh, and the other consequence is that I've set up a marriage ceremony three days from today. Dalby and Paris are organizing it. They seem to think they had the 'right', so I let them. Of course, Neelix is in on it as well." She paused and finally said, "The really interesting part is that Tuvok has gotten involved. He seemed to expect it. Said something about needing to watch out for our dignity. I expect he's right. That's what's been exasperating him. He thought you should at least be conscious before we started planning." She sighed again. "But Kes is keeping her eye on all of it, so I suspect it will all work out in the end."

"Are you telling me you planned this all while I was comatose?"

"Well, yes. I didn't think it was expedient to wait."

He choked, finally grasping some of the implications. "Just what were you going to do if I turned you down?"

Her expression became serious. " I would have been embarrassed, but I would have understood, Chakotay. It was a chance I was willing to take."

He shook his head in awe and exasperation. "Have you ever done anything half way?"

She took both of his hands in hers. "Yes. In the past. I'm sorry for that. I won't make the same mistake again. But I'll need you to help me."

His mind finally wrapped around the details of the consequences. "You really let Paris and Dalby plan a wedding?"

She grimaced. "Yeah. I've been a bit worried about that myself. It seemed like a good idea at the time." She said defensively, "I was a little distracted. We weren't sure you were going to be all right."

"You're a dangerous woman, Kathryn Janeway. No wonder the spirits sent me back here. You are in definite need of a competent XO."

"I was hoping you'd see it that way."

He stood up, pulling her up with him. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" She stood up, carefully brushing the sand from her clothes.

He grabbed his son from the stream bed and deleted the program. " I need to renegotiate with the Doc about today. I can see that there are a few things that need immediate attention." He smiled at her. "And as my first official act, we're confiscating Paris' quarters until they're done with ours. That should keep them in line. If that wedding gets out of control, I may never let him have them back."

She smiled. "Ready to start telling the stories, Chakotay?"

"I always was a sucker for beginnings."

The end

Coda….

"Kathryn?"

"Yes?

".. about that running of the ship staying the same comment…"

"Oh that. I was wondering when you'd get around to it. You're been running the ship and me for a while now. I saw no reason to change or discuss the specifics with the crew."

"Ah. Well, I'm glad that's clear."

"Of course. But you don't get a raise. Don't even think about it."

"Does that mean I can't up the ante?"

"Make me an offer…"

really the end….


End file.
